Madness Does Not Always Howl
by Khaleda
Summary: Remember that saying, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…?" Imagine that fury coming from an honest-to-god, demon-woman. Even the boogie man checks his closet for my ex before he goes to bed.  JinxRaven
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is not a sequel to Pluto, but a completely different story.

~Khaleda

* * *

I live in a suitcase. Clothing neatly folded, layered, packed within the confines of an otherwise empty shell. Articles of mild importance and dull necessity fill the vacant space, often times slipping loose to rattle fervently during my repetitive travel.

_Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Sense of direction_.

With each passing trip, my bag grows increasingly bare as things get left behind. Useless things, perhaps, if I can't name what's missing when I stare down at my belongings spread out across a bed that isn't mine. There is a chasm inside my suitcase that's slowly consuming me. Things that were once important to me, precious, are now gone; sitting on shelves, in closets, on a desk in a place I long to be but can't quite attain.

I excel at what I do. But if you asked me ten years ago what I would be doing when I reached twenty-eight, it certainly wouldn't be flying around the world as the pilot of private jets. Turns out, all my youthful bad luck aside, I had a knack for flying. It was honest work, decently exciting, and paid well. I had a great deal of money, actually. I owned a very nice house in St. Louis, filled with all the essentials any urban housewife could dream of, that remained vastly unoccupied because the job that earned me the money to afford the house took up the majority of my time. The irony of the American Dream. I contemplated selling it, but then what purpose would I serve? What would I do with more money?

At one point, I had someone to share my life with. And like an idiot, I threw it all away. No, that's not exactly accurate. I _ran_ away. The very notion of that statement is laughable, though. You see, when your special someone can slip between the boundaries of time and space, the idea that you can escape them just seems silly. Why did I run away? I was afraid of falling into the depths of her eyes. Afraid that by settling down with her, it would somehow change me, consume me. Because I fell for her, _hard_, and she still managed absolute composure when I felt like an awkward teen. She was terrifying, beautiful, dangerous, and intelligent. I was scared.

I haven't been graced with her presence in half a decade, but I still find myself pausing before crossing a dark alley. I still nervously look over my shoulder when I'm unlocking a door. I don't go out on Halloween. Remember that saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…?" Imagine that fury coming from an honest to god _demon-woman_. Even the boogie man checks his closet for my ex before he goes to bed.

Don't get me wrong, now. She's not a bad person—well she's not _that_ bad of a person, I think. I can't say what she's been doing these past five years. She has the capacity to do horrible things. Frankly, I'm mildly surprised she hasn't offed me yet. Perhaps my punishment for leaving her alone in an apartment full of our things is the fear of the unknown. It's working.

But I digress. Life has been so very busy, chaotic, and yet still so… uneventful.

London had once been exciting to me. I absolutely adored British accents and their dry sense of humor. It was a very different atmosphere from the States and no one knew who I was here. They'd never heard of some obscure illegal school for meta-humans on the coast of California. They didn't care. My once extravagant pink hair was now a simple, unremarkable brown that I kept long. Dressed in casual pants and a dark, thin-strapped top, I blended in to the dull roar of a busy contemporary bar. The only quality that served to identify me without a doubt was my fuchsia eyes; slitted and slanted like a cat. Surprisingly, most people in Europe didn't even spare a second glance at the odd shade of irises I was born with. It was kind of nice.

Tonight was like any other night for me; spent alone in a room full of strangers. My current client decided to stay a few extra days in the UK to go shopping, so I in turn had to spend the next weekend here instead of back home, alone in my house. Are you noticing a pattern? I had stopped counting how many times I'd visited this very bar after twenty-three.

"Do you want another?"

I looked up from staring at my reflection in the highly polished bar top and glanced at the ice melting in my glass. "Yes, please. But will you make it a tall?"

Frank, the young punk bartended, managed to rock out the bright green mohawk he was sporting. I'd never seen him here before, but he had kept my buzz at a nice and steady pace. I watched him pour a more than generous shot of vodka into a glass, finished off with cranberry juice. He set it in front of me and leaned on the bar top, bright blue eyes inquisitive. "You been in London long?"

I watched his accent shape his lips as he spoke, still mildly amused when I heard one as colorful as his. I took a sip of my drink. "I've been here many, many times before."

He was looking at my eyes, smiling as he leaned closer. "From across the pond, eh?"

I nodded, returning to my favorite position; hand holding head propped up, other hand tracing the rim of my glass. The poster child of disinterest.

"I always say I'm going on holiday there one year. Las Vegas, Nevada. You ever been?"

Again I nodded, slowly. "Many, many times."

"Oy, you don't sound too happy about being able to travel all over the world," he straightened, pouring himself a glass of coke. "With how expensive petrol is, I'm lucky if I can make it to Liverpool to visit my mum at Christmas."

"Well then, I must sound like a snobbish prat," I managed a lopsided smile. "I'm a pilot. When travel is your job, it kind of loses its appeal."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. "Ahh, I understand. You stranded here, then?"

"Indeed," I took another sip of my drink. "My fair decided to go shopping. Which means he's probably buying another house or something. God knows when I'll get to leave. Know of anything interesting to do around here that's not intended for tourists?"

He tilted his head to the side and smirked at me in that naughty way men do. "What fancies you, love?"

I smiled slowly, coyly, deceptively in return. "I fancy women."

Both of his brows shot up and he uncrossed his arms in obvious disbelief. "Get off it. Is that right?"

"Oh yes," I nodded sincerely, giving my glass a swirl before I took another sip and crunched loudly on a piece of ice. "Exclusively, I'm afraid."

He watched me for a few seconds, and I could see the thoughts color his eyes with thwarted possibilities. "Bloody 'ell, this always happens to me," he grumbled to himself, scratching the back of his neck. "Right, well then. That certainly narrows it down. Have you ever been to a Burlesque?"

Curious, I shook my head. "They have those here still?"

"Of course! You need to go over to The Peacock Bar in Clapham," he scribbled something down on a napkin and slid it over to me.

I glanced over the address with one brow raised. "This isn't some trashy strip club, is it?"

"God, no. This place is brilliant. Gorgeous women go there, work there, perform there. Very classy, an American would approve."

Moderately interested, I pocketed the napkin and downed the rest of my drink. "I will certainly look into it. Tomorrow night, if my client hasn't changed his mind by then."

"Better get there early if you do, love. That place is packed on Saturday nights," he pointed to my glass. "Another?"

"No," I rubbed my face with both hands, "just close out my tab. I'm about done for the night."

He slipped off down the bar and returned a moment later with my credit card and receipt. "Any time you're in town, stop by and say hello, Jen," he handed me a pen.

"I'm sure I'll be back here at some point before Christmas," I signed the check and pocketed my card, leaving him a generous tip. "Take it easy, Frank." With my buzz still going, I shrugged on my leather jacket, meandered through the crowd and stepped out into the dark streets.

It had rained a constant dreary drizzle all day, and now a fog hung in the air, crisp with the promise of autumn. Europe had a certain look to it, something only countless wars, revolutions, plagues, and hardships could instill. As I walked down the narrow streets, I could almost hear the stones whispering softly; feel them sigh beneath my feet as I passed them by. Folklore was rich in the UK, with rumors of ghosts, hauntings, and evil spirits lurking. People hung good luck charms in their shop windows, never stirred their tea counter-clockwise, and still celebrated the coming of spring with festivals, may poles, and copious amounts of alcohol and sex. In the birthplace of Paganism, you could find touches of it everywhere you looked. At least I could, but there have been more than a few occasions where I've been called a witch…

I'm not one. At least, I don't think. I couldn't be a witch. I'm horrible at following instructions and even worse at gardening. How I can manage to fly a plane is simply terrifying. My magic was all kinds of unnatural, and when I was a teen, I could have sneezed and accidentally brought the whole plane down in flames. I was a walking menace with a pretty face and absolutely no idea what I was doing. I should have taken up the stock market or something. With my luck, I would have cheated the system and made millions. Gods, how stupid was I? Talk about easy money…_Then again, maybe that's just the vodka talking_. I clumsily stumbled over a crack in the cobblestone path and caught myself on the side of a building. "Goddamnit," I muttered, looking around. I'd walked right past my hotel.

I turned around and focused my slightly blurry gaze on the bright lights of my upscale home away from… that place I sleep at in the States. There were still dozens of other inebriated people roaming the streets, so I felt relatively safe as I traversed the road and headed down the opposite sidewalk towards my hotel. Or at least had the illusion of safety. Everyone knows drunk people are useless when it comes to negotiating, simple math, and taking control of a situation.

The lobby smelled like fresh-cut flowers and pine, which was a lie. There aren't any pine trees around London_. Must be pine-sol_. I shuffled over to the young man working the front desk and leaned a bit too heavily on the counter. "Do I have any messages, Monsieur Remy?" That wasn't his name, he wasn't even French. I must be more buzzed than anticipated.

He gave me an amused yet sympathetic look. "No, Ms. Shalecrest, I'm afraid that Mr. Richardson has yet to leave you a message."

"Bastard," I sighed.

"Had a few too many night caps, eh?" he grinned.

"Well this is such a cheery city; I have to drown my enthusiasm somewhere." I dug around in my pockets, looking for my plastic key card for my room. "If Mr. Richardson does call, kindly tell him I'm not getting up until sometime after high noon. I'm tired of this run-around he always gives me. And I want a damn raise. Where the hell is that stupid thing?"

"I will be sure to tell him that," he fiddled around with objects behind the desk, and after a swipe and a few beeps, he extended me a key card.

With a huff, I took it from him. "It would be easier to keep track of if it was really a key," I grumbled, giving him a wave as I glumly shuffled to the elevators. I used to be a happy drunk, once upon a time. Now I'm the depressed kind. It's a travesty, really, but I don't have much motivation to care.

The lighting inside the elevator was blindingly bright, and I squinted, deftly punching the number 14 without even looking. I felt like crap all of a sudden, and as I listened to the ding of each floor pass, I contemplated going to the gym floor and taking a nap in the sauna. However, that probably wasn't the most intelligent of decisions, considering my current state. Wouldn't it be a shame if someone found me there dead the next morning? However would Mr. Richardson get home then…

I laughed, morbidly and to myself as the doors opened onto my floor. To say I was a mess would be the understatement of the millennium. My door swung heavily open and I switched on the lights, glancing at the pristine arrangement of my few possessions across the room. Sometimes it really bothered me, to the point where I'd leave the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door for days at a time, just so I could wallow in my disarray and misery without housekeeping shining on my parade.

This room was non-smoking, but it had a balcony with sliding glass doors that overlooked the city. I nudged open the door and slumped down into the lacquered wooden chair while I fished a box of camels out of my coat pocket. I wasn't a very consistent smoker. Months could go by without a single one, and then I'd smoke non-stop for a few days, only to stop once again. It seems I couldn't even handle a physical addiction properly. Regardless, I just wanted something to do with my hands.

I slipped a cigarette between my lips, cupping my hands around the end while I lit it, and took a long drag. However ridiculous it may seem, I was proud of myself for learning how to blow smoke rings. I leaned back, watched them fizzle away in the air and listened to the low hiss of cars passing by on the wet road below me. It was comforting, soothing almost, and I didn't try to fight when my eyelids grew heavy. My subconscious lulled me into a dark, warm place only slumber could bring.

"Jinx."

_A voice. What does it want? I'm sleeping_.

"Jiiiiiinx, wakey-wakey ma petite chat."

_Only one person has ever called me that_. Alarm shifted my thoughts to lucidity, and I jerked awake to find a pair of very familiar violet eyes inches from mine. The yelp I was going to let out got stuck in my throat, somewhere behind my heart. Instead I froze, breath held and eyes wide as I stared at the last person I was expecting to see.

"So surprised. Pour quoi?" Raven said lightly as she sat straddling my lap, dressed in tight leather pants and a corset top that left her shoulders bare and my terror just as naked. Her hair was still cut short and expertly styled, looking wonderful in the shade of black that highlighted blue in the light from the balcony. She leaned in closer, smiling now, trailing the tip of her finger along my jaw. "Didn't you miss me?"

It took two swallows before I could reply. "How did you find me?"

She arched an eyebrow, elegant and sophisticated in her amusement, as if I shouldn't have even asked that question. That smile faded to a firm stare that sucked the warmth from me. "I've always known where you are. But let's pretend that I didn't, and this has been a long time coming," the tips of her hair fluttered faintly with the press of power seething from her. "It will make this more enjoyable for me."

Panic surged through my veins and I tried to sit up, knowing it was hopeless. She smiled again, more of a bearing of teeth than an expression of pleasure, and wrapped her hand around my throat as she held me in place.

"I can hear your heart," she whispered against my lips. Her free hand pressed against the left side of my chest. "It missed me, you see? Look how it races…" The grip on my throat tightened. I could feel her lips and teeth down my neck as she continued to murmur in a tone I hadn't heard in years; a tone that filled me with fear and longing. "You can't lie to me, Jinx. Just give in," she still smelled the same; lavender and rain. Her words vibrated along my skin, giving me goose bumps. "Give in, and I promise it will be _glorious_."

My lips parted but no sound slipped past. With a growl, Raven sunk her teeth into the muscle of my shoulder.

I sucked in a deep breath to scream and started awake, falling right out of my wooden chair. Terrified, I scanned the balcony, only finding my long extinguished cigarette lying on the deck and everything else, myself included, covered in a light dew. The night sky had the soft glow of pre-dawn, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I was shaking.

"Son of a bitch," I rubbed my face, trying to calm down. That was a pretty intense dream. I hadn't had one about Raven in ages. _Speak of the devil…_ After vowing to stay off vodka from now on, I climbed to my feet, went into my room and closed the sliding glass door behind me. The warmth of the room brought a little relief to me. I was still exhausted, but I wasn't quite ready to go back to sleep. Besides, I was all wet, and slightly aroused. But let's not talk about that. My clothes were difficult to peel off in my still drunk haze, but I managed. After turning on the shower, I went to brush my teeth while it warmed. And as I glanced at my tired, shaken expression in the mirror, I froze.

There, clear as day and bright red, was a set of bite marks on my shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you mean you want to stay another week? We had a deal," I paced the shiny marble floor of the lobby as far as the chord of the desk phone would allow. Matt, the man that worked the front desk during the day, watched me with brows raised. "One week in London, one in Paris, and then back to the States. Not two weeks in London, a week in Paris, and where ever else you've got planned!"

"_I will make it worth your time, Ms. Shalecrest,"_ Mr. Richardson's nasal voice taunted me through the phone. _"Don't make this into an issue."_

"I don't _need_ your money," I scathed, not caring that this was a client. "This is the last time I'm flying you anywhere, you got that? Don't bother calling my agent, I'm done with you," I slammed the phone down in its receiver with an audible growl. "Mother fu—"

"Bad news, eh?" Matt said loud enough to muffle my obscenity from the virgin ears of the other guests in the lobby. I merely stared at him for the ten seconds of contemptuous silence that question deserved. "Is it really that bad here?" He gestured.

No, it wasn't. I just wasn't in the mood to let some rich bastard walk all over me. Also, I was now completely paranoid and just wanted to leave. I rubbed my shoulder as I slumped against the front desk. "It's not the place, Matt, it's the principle."

"Yeah, yeah…You don't look so well, Jennifer," he gave me a sly look. "Had a wee bit too much to drink last night?"

I wanted to laugh, but couldn't muster one. "No, I just didn't sleep very well." As you may have guessed, I couldn't fall back asleep after the…episode on the balcony. I spent the majority of the morning and early afternoon brooding in my suite like my life had been turned upside-down. Granted, my life had to be right-side-up in order for that to happen, so I wasn't really sure just what was happening. Had that been a dream last night, or was Raven really here somewhere? _She couldn't be, how on earth would she be able to find me in London, of all places?_ But, I didn't hook up with anyone last night, so I couldn't really explain the bite mark that was still on my shoulder, four p.m. and counting. Fuck, I was nervous now. "I'm heading out for the night. If the douche bag calls back, tell him to eat shit and die."

"Of course, Jennifer," Matt bowed jokingly, "Whatever the lady wishes. Would you like me to ring you a cabbie?"

"No, I'm going for a walk," I plucked a peppermint out of the bowl on the desk as I headed for the door. "Thanks though." He nodded and went back to his job. I adjusted my jacket as I shouldered open the front door and took a deep breath of cool evening air.

I left my hair down, hoping to obscure my appearance somewhat as I meandered down the sidewalk. It was futile, however. If Raven really was here, she'd be able to feel me out in a crowd in a matter of seconds. Hell, she could probably smell me out too. She and I had been more than an intimate couple.

Before I could stop it, my thoughts drifted to nights spent intertwined with her in bed; the softness of her skin pressed up against mine; the way her laugh lit up her eyes… Her voice could sooth away all my worries, drowning me in a lull of contentment.

My steps faltered as a twang of longing got stuck in the back of my throat. Did I regret leaving her? _Of course you do, idiot_. Frowning, I popped the mint into my mouth and slumped down into a nearby bench. I wasn't sure if this was all real. But if it was… why did she contact me now, five years later? Did she still love me, or was she merely seeking revenge? What if I was wrong, and this was just my subconscious punishing itself? Should I genuinely worry for my safety or am I simply going crazy?

So many questions. Endless unknowns. One unsettling reality: Raven DeLint was my ex.

I watched evening traffic creep along the streets while I huddled in my jacket, slumped in the bench, surrounded by my own anxiety. What if she really _was_ here? Just the thought had my pulse racing and made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Those haunting eyes watching me from a distance too close for comfort; the resounding fact that stalking her prey excited Raven to no end, made my mouth go dry. She had every reason a normal ex would have to be resentful of me. I broke her heart and left her in my wash of absolute panic. But Raven was a demon, and she was a tad bit…extreme. I had every reason to fear for my own safety should she decide retribution was in order.

A twig snapped on the walkway behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I jerked towards the sound.

A young straight couple gave me a funny look as they passed, walking hand-in-hand on the sidewalk in that pre-relationship bliss you only really ever experienced once in your life. I swore under my breath. _Jesus Fucking Christ. This is embarrassing_. Bothered now, I got to my feet and started towards the shopping district at a brisk walk.

I needed a distraction—to clear my head and work off some of this pent up frustration that was slowly gnawing away at my soul. Libations were probably not the wisest course of action considering last night's ending note. The next best thing? Getting laid. Surely that would help, right? Right. A few minutes of digging around in all the pockets of my jacket produced the napkin from the bar last night. I scanned the address scrawled out in messy male handwriting as I flagged down a passing cab. Being inside a vehicle would help me feel better, not too exposed, and on the move. Harder to track.

"Evening, miss," the scruffy cabbie crooned in that old brogue only the English could manage. "Where to?"

I slipped into the backseat and locked both doors. "The Peacock Bar," I peered out the back windows, scanning the crowd. "In Clapham."

"Oh, bloody good choice," he practically cheered as he threw the cab into gear and tore off down the wrong side of the road. It may have been right for the British, but it still gave me a heart-attack when we approached an intersection of four lane roads and everything was backwards. "Are you running from someone, poppet?" his warm brown eyes watched me in the rear-view mirror as I alternated looking out windows.

"I'm not really sure," I murmured, fiddling with the zipper of my jacket. "I think I'm paranoid."

"I see… Well, like I always say. It's not paranoid if someone's really out to get you."

I didn't know whether to be worried or comforted by that notion. The back seat was old worn leather and I had no problem sinking into it in my apparent, on-going gloom.

"No worries, though. The Peacock is a right good place to get lost. You should have no troubles finding yourself a young buck to run off with," he grinned.

Ah, yes. The inevitable assumption that I was straight. I've found it best to just pretend. It saves me the labor of holding a conversation with someone that I really could care less about. "Thanks…"

After twenty minutes of silence and chaotic driving, I glanced at the clock; 17:06. "How far away is this place?"

"Oh, twenty minutes or so. Don't fret, I'll give you a good price," he waved as if he was trying to sooth a distraught person. "You've got cat eyes," he said suddenly, leaning over the seat to look at me while still driving at a rather unnerving speed. "Pink cat eyes! Unbelievable. Are those real?"

"Yes, they're real," I said warily as traffic flew past us on the right. Maybe I picked the wrong cab. "Watch the road, man."

"You'll get attention at The Peacock, alright. Be beating them away with a stick all night long," he settled back in his seat and squealed off down the road at an ever less desirable pace. "I was at The Peacock once and met this Sloane. She was absobloodylutely gorgeous. At first I thought she might be AC/DC, when she was snogging the rabbit behind the bar. Turns out she just liked her amber nectar and was bollucksed and barking mad to boot! I spent all night with that tart, thinking I'd found the one, you know? Turns out she was all fur coat and no knickers."

I blinked at the back of his head. _What the hell did he just say?_ "…yeah."

"And it's Saturday, they've got the best shows on Saturdays! Right, I'm so bloody well excited for you," he laughed whole-heartedly for reasons unbeknownst to me. Trepidation joined my anxious paranoia.

I gripped the back of his seat as I threatened to slam into the opposite wall with the ambitious turn he took. His driving was really starting to worry me. "…Have you been drinking?"

"Eh? I had some tea and crumpets and a vicar, nothing to get your skivvies in a bunch about," he guffawed.

Raven wouldn't get the chance to torture me if this guy t-boned a double decker bus. "You know what, I changed my mind," I glanced out the window as cars, street lights, and people whirled by. "This looks good. Let me out here."

"Pish-posh, you don't mean that," he laughed.

"No, really. Stop the car."

"Rubbish, Jinxy, we're almost there," he said softly, startling me.

My stomach twisted into knots, and a surge of sudden anger drowned out my fear. "_What did you just say?_"

His eyes watching me in the rearview mirror bled to midnight violet, and the gravelly, feminine voice that answered was like a spear to my heart. "You can't always cut and run when things get real," Raven chided with a smile in her words. "But you can be mended, watch and see…"

"Holy Fuck!" I scrambled as far away from the driver as humanly possible, sheer terror making my voice crackle and shriek. "Stop! _Stop the goddamn car!_"

The brakes hit hard, and I braced against the passenger seat as the cab jerked and rattled to a stop. The brown-eyed driver turned around, giving me a weird look. "What the devil's wrong with you? Yellin' like that over fuck-all? You're a might bit balmy, aren't you?"

Confusion, rapid blinking, and a few labored breaths later, I realized the driver was just that; the crazy Englishman that picked me up across town. I hastily dug in my pockets, pulled out a handful of Euros and threw them over the seat. I couldn't stand being in this cab for another second. I fumbled with the lock and shoved open the door, practically falling onto the curb as I took deep, gasping breaths, trying to calm down. I ran until I got around the corner of the nearest building, where I slumped down against the wall, holding my face in my shaking hands.

She was here. This was real. _Oh my god_.

My mind noted somberly that there was no escape now. As I sat there on the wet stone, surrounded by strangers walking in all directions, I felt more exposed than ever. Every person could be a doppelganger, a ruse, a lie; a means for making my life a living terror. The pieces were set, the game in motion, and already I was on the run. How could I possibly contend with Raven when it came to mind games? In any game? I'm metahuman, and that may be impressive to the average person, but that _woman_ could read my mind. I may be quick, agile, and resilient, but that only made me all the more appealing as her prey.

I got to my feet slowly, watching all around as my heart raced a steady marathon pace in my chest. _What do I do? Where do I go?_ I wracked my memory, piecing together all the pertinent information I could as I shuffled around the corner and glanced at my surroundings. Across the street was The Peacock Bar. It looked busy, and there were tons of people roaming the area in between. Raven wouldn't make a scene. _Stay in the crowd, where people can see. Avoid corners, keep away from the bathrooms. And for god's sake, don't drink anything._

I forced myself into motion, strolling across the road at a casual, indifferent pace despite the skin-crawling alarm that made my hands tremble. There was a group of women ahead of me, showing their ID's to the bouncer, talking loudly amongst themselves. Instincts drilled into me since my youth flickered to life; I stilled my breathing, angled my shoulders, and let my senses open up. The bouncer was preoccupied as he flirted with one of the women, and it only took a moment for me to slip past him into the throngs of the crowd, unnoticed.

My first impression of this establishment was shockingly pleased. It was well lit and spacious, accented with recessed lighting. Everything looked clean, polished, and well taken care of. It was packed, of course, but there was still a certain sense of personal space that made me feel slightly less on edge. Men and women gathered around tables, chairs, and couches, drinking, laughing, and smiling. My eyes traveled to the large stage at the far end of the room where a strikingly attractive woman with long blonde hair was strutting in stilettos to the beat of a song pulsing through the speakers. I watched, more than interested, as her hips swayed side to side in the tastefully skimpy lingerie that clung to her like a second skin. She was saying something into the microphone in her hand, but I couldn't hear above the cheers and shouts from the crowd.

There was suddenly a presence at my side a moment before a voice spoke in my ear. "Hello, love. Can I get you something to drink?"

I started, turned and exhaled slowly. It was a cute brunette cocktail waitress. At this rate, I was going to give myself a heart attack. I smiled, leaning in close so she could hear me. "No, thank you."

"You sure?" her tone was sweet and disappointed. "Not even one?" the smile she was wearing made her brown eyes gleam with persuasion. She was good. I ran my eyes over the short black dress she was wearing in consideration.

"…Maybe just one," I relented, digging in my pocket for my wallet. I pulled out my AMEX and handed it to her. "Rum and coke?"

"Excellent choice! My name is Leena."

"I'm Jennifer."

"Pleasure to meet you," she grinned, pointing to an empty table facing the stage. "Make yourself comfortable and I will be right back." Following her lead, I settled down at the high-top table and watched Ms. Leena scamper off towards the bar. And for a moment, I relaxed, watching the blonde up on stage and the people all around me. Everyone was having a great time, it seemed. I felt oddly safe on my perch, and when Leena returned a few minutes later with my drink, I decided this was just what I needed.

"That's Claire up on stage," Leena leaned on the edge of the table with her elbows. "Kira is up next. Did you come here alone?"

The rum and coke was strong for a bar drink. Usually they stiffed you on the booze, but this one was mostly rum and a dash of coke. I only sipped it, mindful of my previous night's escapade. "Yes, I'm alone."

"Nonsense, a hot woman like you? We can't have that. I will find you someone to keep you company," she leaned in closer, eyeing me. "Which team do you prefer?"

A smile crept across my lips. "The girl's team."

"I knew it! I've got someone you're going to love," she touched the top of my hand in that way straight women do. "If you need anything else, just flag me down," she waved before snaking her way through the crowd.

_Someone I'm going to love_. Suddenly I was nervous again, and all I could think of was Raven.

The music died down and Claire took a gracious bow as the audience cheered and cried out. She blew kisses and waved, strutting off stage. A lingering beat of music remained, and the lights brightened just a tad, indicating an intermission of sorts. I watched as people got up, changed seats, wandered off to the bar, the bathroom, a dark corner to make out it; some left hand in hand, some left stumbling drunk. Gaggles of women, groups of stags, couples and loners alike mingled in this London Burlesque. I don't know if it was the location, the up-scale air of the place, but no one seemed to be disgruntled. I was waiting for the inevitable fight that never came.

I glanced behind me and spotted Leena walking towards me, followed by another woman; I sat up straighter.

"Jennifer, I'd like you to meet Evelyn," Leena smiled, gesturing.

Evelyn had long, straight brown hair and bright blue eyes. Her attire was elegant yet revealing in all the right places, a shade darker than her eyes and accented with black lace and ribbon. "Hello, Jennifer," she said in a mischievously innocent tone that tightened the knot in my stomach in a very good way. "May I join you?"

"Of course you may," I nudged the chair out beside me. She pushed it right beside mine, and climbed up into it with a slow, deliberate gesture.

"Enjoy the show," Leena smirked and vanished before I could thank her.

"Is this your first time at The Peacock?" Evelyn propped her head on one fist and traced the tabletop with the index finger of her other hand.

I watched the gesture for a moment before answering "Yes."

"You're an American, aren't you?"

I looked up into her eyes, "Yes."

She grinned, suddenly reaching towards me. "You look really hot in that leather. Let me help you out of it."

Who was I to object? Her hands slipped under my jacket and across my shoulders, brushing the leather jacket backwards. Her fingertips were warm against my exposed skin, and her eyes examined the thin black halter top I was wearing with a lingering appreciation.

"You look hot without it as well, I'm afraid," she lilted playfully, hitting her lovely accent just right. "However, it looks like someone got to you first," she traced the bite mark on my shoulder, giving me goose bumps absolutely everywhere.

"It wasn't exactly a love bite," I looked away from her eyes, oddly embarrassed. How do you explain that your ex is haunting you in every sense of the word?

"No matter to me, Jennifer, I'm not here to judge." She touched the bite again before leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Nevertheless, I'm infinitely more enjoyable company than _her_." My arousal skyrocketed, and with impeccable timing, her hand slipped down to caress my thigh just as the lights dimmed and the spotlight illuminated the stage once again.

Sometime during the break, a black wooden chair was placed center stage. A sinewy frame slipped through the part in the curtains and stepped into the soft glow of the lights. Her skin was pale against the black leather boots that came to her knees, and the tight corset bodice that laced up the back with silver ribbon looked painted on. In her hand was a long black cane that she casually twirled with her fingers. From where I was seated, all I could see was her profile; she had her head tilted down, face hidden by a sheen of short black hair and the fedora she was wearing. My gaze trailed down her exposed abdomen, lingering on the definition of her abs.

"That's Kira," Evelyn purred in my ear as she slid her hand higher up my thigh. "She's quite popular here. Most people fail to realize that she would eat them alive…" Her other arm draped across the back of my shoulders, pulling me until our sides pressed against one another. "You like her already, don't you?"

I blinked away from the stage to look into the eyes of the woman that was practically sitting in my lap. "I don't know yet. I haven't seen her show." I brushed my own lips against her ear, "I'm much more interested in seeing yours."

Evelyn made a low sound in her throat, punctuated by a rough press of her hand between my legs that snatched the breath from my lips and replaced it with a quiet moan. Bright blue eyes sparkled with inclination. "You can see mine after we watch Kira's." That sounded like a plan to me.

The music changed, tearing my attention away from Evelyn. The woman called Kira was dancing a slow, evocative pace across the stage, using the cane like her dance partner in a predatory tango towards the chair. I was already aroused, and with Evelyn nuzzling, rubbing, caressing me while I watched this sexy woman on stage, I worried I might die of bliss.

"Kira picks someone from the crowd in her act," Evelyn nibbled on my neck. "Shall we raise your hand when the time comes? I think we should…"

The grin that was plastered across my face wouldn't go away. "I thought you wanted to watch it together?"

She traced the line of exposed skin where my top met my pants. "I know, but… Let's just see how the dance unfolds."

I squirmed happily and picked up my drink, taking another sip as Kira reached the chair and began prowling around it in her dance. There was just something so enticing about the way she moved; it touched a very primal part of me that I didn't have words for. When the music reached a lull, the dark haired woman straightened to her full height behind the chair, lifting her chin to look across the crowd.

"Oh, do it," Evelyn begged, grinding up against me in a very convincing manner. "Raise your hand, Jennifer, you won't regret it."

I admit, I was tempted, so very tempted. Already hands were going up left and right across the crowd, waving enthusiastically. With one last sip of my drink, I raised my hand high above my head, smiling, watching Kira scan the crowd with a slow, thorough torment. Then her eyes locked with mine, and my smile faltered as all the blood drained from my face to pool somewhere below my knees.

Raven took off her fedora, let it fall to the stage, and pointed directly at me. "Come here, Jinx," her voice carried across the room like a shadow, and she took a step closer, smiling. "You're going to love this part."


	3. Chapter 3

All I could do was stare at the woman up on stage as every joint in my body cemented in place. _That is Raven DeLint. She's looking right at me. There is no hope of escape_.

"Jennifer, she's pointing at you," Evelyn coaxed in my ear. I'd completely forgotten she was sitting right beside me. "Come on, this is going to be great!" She got out of her chair and grabbed my wrist, giving me a few tugs. I wouldn't budge.

I'd come close to death on many occasions in my life. The risks I've taken in the name of teenage rebellion were abundant and recurrent, and while I chalk most of it up to sheer luck, I always managed to remain calm in the face of danger. But this… this calm I was feeling now wasn't the result of years worth of training and experience. Raven shifted her hips, lowering her head faintly in an impatient gesture. My entire world had narrowed to the scantily clad demon up on stage, whose dark violet eyes bored into my soul; whose voice was crystal clear in my mind despite the roar of the crowd. This calm was a lie to myself; a cover for the totality of utter despair.

_Get up, Jinx_. That low, sultry unspoken voice sent a chill down my spine. _**Now**_.

Dizziness was overtaking me. I gasped in a breath of air, realizing I hadn't been breathing. It was some kindness that my heart would beat without my conscious effort and a cruelty all the same. For a lingering moment I stared at the woman prowling around the wooden chair, wondering if I should simply ream my head into the nearest wall and hope someone called an ambulance. The way things have been going, it would probably only render me into further helplessness instead of eternal slumber. Besides, I didn't want to die. I just understood how badly I'd wounded the love of my life and knew that I had this coming. I deserved this; all of this.

However, you can fathom my hesitancy.

The longer I made Raven wait, the more suffering I would endure. The tug on my wrist grew a little more persistent and I slowly got out of my chair. The crowd was a mixture of cheers, groans, and smiles as Evelyn practically dragged me towards the stage. My heart was beating franticly in my chest, and by the time I stumbled up the wooden steps and felt the spotlights hit me, I practically passed out.

Raven gestured eloquently to the wooden chair with a sparkle in her eyes that I did not like. With a determined shove from Evelyn, I slumped down into the chair, resigned to the fact that this was going to be painful. A morbid little voice in the back of my head found amusement in that. I sent a pleading glance at Evelyn as she hopped offstage with a big smile on her face. _Don't leave me with her,_ _you bitch!_

I felt Raven slide up behind the chair with hair-raising stillness. "Hello, Jinx," her voice was dark with pleasure, like tinted glass. "Fancy meeting you here."

She slowly circled, moving in time with the thump of the music in a dance so brilliantly seductive I nearly forgot I should be terrified. Those curvy hips I loved so much brushed teasingly against my shoulder as she circled once again. I ran my eyes over her in speechless wonder as she continued to put on a terribly convincing show that had me undoubtedly enraptured. That outfit; corset, knee-high boots, and bodice, all black and skin-tight, hit me hard. _Gods, she is hot_. She knew it, but more importantly, she knew that I knew. This wasn't exactly foreplay anymore. I had the distinct feeling that she wasn't trying to get into my pants; she wanted under my skin, between my bones, to wrap a tendril of retribution around my fluttering heart.

"Is this real?" I whispered, nails digging into the wood as I held the base of the chair in a death grip.

"I don't know," Raven straddled my lap and draped her arms loosely around my shoulders, letting her cane rest across the back of my neck as her lips brushed against my ear. "_Is it?_"

A tremble of hot need trickled down from those lips, straight to my toes, warming everything in between with the promise of satisfaction. I couldn't help the moan that vibrated in my throat, betraying myself; I felt Raven smile. Her fingertips threaded through my hair, caressing down the side of my neck almost fondly as the music thrummed with carnal energy. She smelled so fucking good I could barely stand it. I pulled away until I could see into her eyes, studying the depths of that violet in restless doubt. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The hand in my hair instantly tightened, jerking my head back sharply. I sucked in a breath and stilled, yielding to the demon whose lips were now trailing dangerously across my exposed throat. "You should be thankful I want to torture you so sweetly," she murmured. I heard the clatter of her cane hitting the stage before she traced the bite mark on my shoulder with a warm fingertip. "I know what you like, even after all these years."

Distantly I remembered I was up on stage in a Burlesque; I assumed the indistinguishable rumble was the crowd's commendation of the show. I swallowed slowly, trying to unwrap my fingers that were frozen to the chair. I had to think quickly to get out of this situation, but even as that thought crossed my mind, another one ignited the sound possibility that I was being naïve.

Of course, then I realized that wasn't my thought at all.

"Please," the desperation in my voice sounded pathetic, even to me. "Let's go backstage or something. Where ever you want. Just get me off this stage." Her hand kept my head tilted back at a sharp angle and I peered at her in a sideways glance, trying to focus on her eyes with the multitude of lights whirling around stage.

"You don't want to be the center of attention? Jinx… what's happened to you, _ma petite chat?_" the demon cooed gently, in stark contrast to the fingernail she dragged down my chest hard enough to break the skin.

I sucked in a breath, jerking beneath her as I fought to bring my arms up and push her away. But her hips ground into my lap at the same moment her teeth found the lobe of my ear, biting hard enough to force me still without drawing blood. Unreserved vulnerability flooded my system, made my heart stumble in my chest; clouded my thoughts and sent a faint shiver down my spine. "Raven—"

"One chance," her fingers gradually released my hair, letting me tilt my head down. I flashed her a bewildered stare. She ran her hands down my chest, disheveling my top as she pushed herself up, balancing on the toes of her stiletto boots. "I will be waiting for you at your hotel. Better hurry, love." Raven smiled wickedly at me before she turned around, striking a demure pose as the music ended.

A tsunami of applause suffocated the stage. Free now, I stumbled to my feet, glancing vacantly across the crowd as Raven took a few bows, blew kisses, and strutted back towards me. I took a breath to ask her what she had meant and choked on the words. The woman that had just molested me in front of a full room was smiling at me, dressed in a purple lace teddy, with long auburn hair and bright blue eyes. I took a step backwards, staring in absolute horror.

"Are you alright?" the woman's mouth shaped the words I couldn't hear over the shouts from the crowd, and she took a step closer, eyeing me like I might do something strange. "I'm Kira. You did great out here," she was close enough now that I could hear. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

I sidestepped her, trying to smooth down the hair that was ruffled by… _Kira_… "I have to go," I said abruptly, not caring in the slightest that I didn't owe this stranger the courtesy of knowing my plans. Before she could reply I was already off the stage, clawing my way through the multitude of patrons as fast as I could. When I got to the bar I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored backsplash. I looked pale; my brow was dotted with sweat, my halter top was ruffled and there was a faint red mark on my chest that stood in a glaring mockery of my dwindling sanity.

I looked to my immediate right and found Leena standing there with my leather jacket. "Jennifer? Are you alright?" The cocktail waitress quirked a brow, gently reaching out to touch my shoulder. I shied away before she could, convinced I might crumple to the ground in a heap if anyone showed me a scrap of physical sympathy.

"No! Yes, I-I've got to go. I need to close my tab," I rambled, rubbing my arms as I glanced hysterically for a clock. Raven said hurry. How long had it been since she said that? Gods, I didn't want to keep her waiting. If she was even waiting there in my room; if she was even in London at all. _Christ, I'm fucking losing it_. "Today, woman!" I barked, snatching my jacket from Leena.

"What the devil's your problem!" she shouted, angrily storming around the counter to the register. My credit card and receipt were violently thrown in my face a few seconds later. I took them without another word, sprinting out the doors and into the street.

"Taxi, taxi!" I waved like a lunatic, flagging down a yellow cabbie that I promptly vaulted inside. I locked the doors, despite knowing it was pointless. "The Hilton, step on it."

"What's the hurry?'' The young English native drawled as he pulled back into traffic, brown eyes giving me a once-over in the rear-view mirror.

I dug around in the pockets of my jacket and pulled out my remaining euros, hastily counting them before I waived them over the front seat at the man. "One hundred-fifty. That's my hurry. Savvy?"

"Well done," he grinned and floored it.

The leather seat I was huddled on was cold and squeaked with every bump. If I wasn't so stung-out I would have given the surrounding historic district that was sailing by at umpteen kilometers and hour the attention it deserved. Was Raven really here? How was she fucking with my head like that? My fingertips found the red scratch near my collar bone, tracing it. _One chance for what?_ Redemption? A clean slate? A phone call to forward my assets before my untimely demise?

The driver pulled up to the lobby of my hotel in record time. I paid him, muttering a thank you as I scrambled out of the cab and through the front doors. Despite all wisdom, I repeatedly hit the up arrow on the elevator whilst staring at the floors counting down to level L. _Come on, come on, come on! Christ, it's the twentieth century, haven't they updated this goddamn machine yet?_

"Ms. Shalecrest?" a vaguely confused voice called from across the lobby. The man behind the front desk whose name escaped me was waiving me over. I reluctantly abandoned my elevator vigil, and when I got up to the desk he furrowed his brow, speaking in a hushed tone. "What are you doing back? Did you forget something in your room?"

I'm sure I looked just as confused as he sounded. "What? No, I'm just getting in."

He glanced at the clock on the wall that read a few little lines past…_ten?_ It was ten already? "I don't understand. You already checked out."

"_What?_" I stared.

"Yes, right here," he fiddled with the computer. "Matthew, the afternoon desk clerk has you checked out at six."

A pause.

"Ms. Shalecrest?"

A pause.

"…Ms. Shalecrest, are you alright? You're pale as a ghost."

_Raven…_ It took three swallows before I could form sounds with my lips. "There must be some mistake," I said blandly, so faint the words threatened to unravel. "I need to stay another night. I'm just going up to my room now."

"You can't," he called out before I could take a step. "It's already been rented out."

Something snapped inside the recesses of my reason.

With trembling composure I turned back to the clerk, setting my plastic key card on the counter between us. "I'm having difficulty wrapping my brain around this news," I said quietly, in hopes to keep from screaming. "Even if I did check myself out, _which I didn't_, there is no way you got the room cleaned and rented to someone else in the few hours I've been gone. Also, my things were still inside, and surely a respectable hotel such as this wouldn't make such a glaring mistake." I snatched the man by the collar and dragged him over the counter until his face was inches from mine. "_Do yourself a favor. Reactivate my key right… fucking… now_," the last came out as a whisper.

"Right then, Ms. Shalecrest," his brown eyes were wide in fear as I slowly released him. He stumbled back to his feet, rubbing his throat while staring at me like the mad woman I undoubtedly was. With shaking hands he picked up the key, swiped it through the card reader and handed it back to me without another word.

I turned for the elevators just as the doors closed; the number 18 flashed beside an up arrow and I caught a growl between my grinding teeth. The door to the stairs slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a crack in the drywall. I took the stairs two at a time, spiraling higher and higher, fueled by adrenaline induced by anger and fear for one's life. I wasn't sure what awaited me in room 1445, but there was also a very good chance that I did. Each step I took was agony to my heaving lungs, and as I reached the fourteenth floor with legs reduced to jell-o and mind not too far behind, a crystalline thought stopped me dead in my tracks: _today is our anniversary_.

That notion knocked all the air from my lungs; I braced myself in the halfway open doorway leading to the hall. Six years ago on this very day, Raven and I first got together. And almost one year to the day, I left her out of stupidity, fear, and stubborn pride. I closed my eyes, softly banging my forehead into the door frame over and over. _How could I forget something like this? How fucking idiotic am I? I bet Raven never forgot. Raven never ever forgets…_ Now, five years later, she was giving me one chance. Whether it was to make it up to her, to pay for my foolishness, or something beyond my comprehension, I did not know.

I stepped into the hallway, eyes fixated on the door to my room. The seconds dragged on like eons, making my pace seem excruciatingly masochistic. My hand was shaking so violently I missed the key slot twice before accurately sliding it through. The little green light blinked at me; welcome home, it said. I pushed the door open and stepped inside the unlit room, letting the heavy door slam shut behind me. My fingers blindly found the light switch and when my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, my jaw dropped at the scene before me.

"Who the hell are you?" a strange naked man yelped. He turned his exposed package away from me, dragging the comforter of the bed to cover himself and the equally naked, wide-eyed woman beneath him. Both glared at me a few seconds later when all I did was remain there, staring in disbelief like an idiot. "_Get out, you perv! Get the hell out!_"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Dumbfounded, I wildly fumbled for the door knob, practically falling out of the room a second before something heavy and solid crashed against the inside of the room where I'd previously been standing. I gaped at the closed door to room 1445, holding a hand to the side of my head. They really rented out my room. That meant I really checked out at six. That meant I really was going fucking insane. Where were my things? My clothes? My bloody _passport_?

I turned around and ran right into Raven. There wasn't enough air left in my lungs to gasp; I just stood there, face inches from hers, frozen like a deer in the headlights of a goddamn semi.

"I know exactly what you're thinking." She glanced at the room before quirking a smile at me that mirrored delight as her tone dropped an octave to match my dread. "_**Fuck.**_"

Yeah. That about covered it.


	4. Chapter 4

_This is what it must feel like to stare down the barrel of a gun._

Everything melted away from my thoughts, trickling down my spine to pool at my feet like ice on a hot summer's day. There was no fight or flight instinct to kick in either; there simply wasn't any time to contemplate that. Nothing could distract me from the cold, hard reality of this moment, in a hotel hallway clear across the globe from any sense of home I had. Even that wasn't exactly accurate. Home was right there, heart beats away from rendering me to bone and ash.

Raven and I were standing so close I could see my reflection in those shapeless, swirling depths of her eyes. I could see the contours of her cheek bones; the tiny imperfections in her skin that only made her seem more real, more tangible. And most importantly, at least to me in my unwavering delirium, I could see her lips, only a whisper away from my own. She was wearing a delicate black top that wrapped around her torso, wispy and elegant with flowing sleeves. The hollow of her throat was exposed, bare and pale. My gaze dropped lower, to the dark jeans that clung to her hips like they were simply meant to be, and then to the leather boots that gave her several inches on me in height.

Raven smiled slow-motion surreal, and even as reason told me that I was about to endure a beating or worse, I couldn't help but admire just how gorgeous she was. The memory of those lips against mine was still fresh in my mind. I remembered how soft her hair was, how smooth her skin felt, how deliciously intoxicating her voice was in the heat of rapture…

_She used to be mine_.

And like any respectable montage of regret, time caught up with me. Her voice carried across the short distance between us with all the foreshadowing menace of smoke before the wild fire.

"I've never known you to be so prompt, _Jennifer_," she lilted, making my alias sound like a jibe. Before I could take a breath to reply, her hand wrapped around my wrist so tightly my bones cringe with dreadful knowing. When I blinked, we were someplace else, and I was left feeling like I'd just been dragged through a pool of gelatinous flesh and dropped into the arctic.

I jerked away from her with a gasp, wiping at my skin like there was something wretched covering me. "I fucking hate that shit you know that—" I yelled, catching myself before I said anything else that would only further worsen my situation. The rest of my outrage came out as a garbled exhale as I took in my surroundings.

A loft apartment is like a large, working piece of art. Without the confining structure of walls, the space is an ever-changing current of material desire. Drapes not only filter out sunlight at the windows, but denote the cozy nook deemed adequate as a reading spot, separate this space from that with fluttering ease. Rooms, storage, and privacy are an illusion. Cotton suggestions, rice-paper screens of modesty. Rough brick outer walls give a sense of resiliency, a border to this universe lined with steel ventilation pipes and weather worn hardwood. A loft apartment is exactly what you make of it. And this one; warm, dimly lit, and misted with lavender, was ours. _Was_.

I was in a state of speechlessness; mouth dry as the Sahara, running my eyes over a scene left almost untouched in five years, thinking it all a mirage. Another test of my fragile sanity. A lie. But the longer I gazed the more concrete everything around me seemed. A glance out the window to the street below confirmed my suspicions; this was our apartment in Seattle. _This is real_.

My creepy steel sculptures still hung on the wall of the kitchen space, functioning as a rack to hang the small assortment of pots and pans Raven and I had acquired during out time together. Below the center window across the loft rested the wooden table we had refinished together, remaining untouched by time, right down to the visible thumbprint left in the stain of one of the legs. _It wasn't dry_, I blinked, rubbing my fingertips together, still able to feel the sticky furniture stain and see the mocking expression in Raven's eyes when she spotted the blemish. Several orchids grew in clay pots and wooden boxes across the table, soaking in the late afternoon sun pouring through the glass. Everything was the same as I left it; mildly lived-in and updated, but coated in a sense of normalcy that hurt to witness.

I turned, staring down the imaginary hall at the elegantly draped corner shrouded in dark satin and whispered intimacy. _Our room_. Warm longing hit me low in my gut, igniting memories of the two of us intertwined on that wonderful bed, naked flesh blissfully merged in a state of being too powerful for words. But that longing was replaced by alarm when something occurred to me. I snapped my gaze back around, scanning the bookshelf along the adjacent wall, picking out the tiny part in the books that practically screamed at me like a gaping hole. _Raven's journal_.

That aforementioned item currently resided on the desk in my office in St. Louis. Its pages were worn and creased with age, tattered from my repetitive perusing over the years. I took it out of sheer spite and anger, thinking I would find the answers I searched for somewhere in Raven's tiny, leftward slanted writing. Instead, I discovered an even darker side of the woman I loved. The pages weren't filled with insecurities, wishes, or dreams. No fantasies, past lovers or fears. That thin, moleskin notebook contained Raven's regrets. A multitude of her sins neatly catalogued, vividly described.

People she hurt, ruined, and killed harbored too much temptation to risk day dreaming about, so she wrote them down to get them out of her thoughts. She regretted being lonely. She hated being misunderstood as strongly as she cherished it. The void in her soul was overwhelming, and she regretted knowing how to fill it, because what she craved was chaos and destruction instead of the cool calm she exuded. She craved things that frightened her on some level. I should have known better, really. The questions I had been asking were the wrong ones, but by the time I realized, it was far too late. I couldn't go back after running away with her journal, thinking I would find information that validated me invading her privacy; finding out that she was having trouble accepting herself made me feel like the biggest ass in the world. No apology was adequate enough.

Raven's voice was soft and bland, forcing me to look at her. "Of all the things you could have taken, it was that." She glanced at the top self to that slender void like it called to her; the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees with her tone. "_I trusted you_."

I leapt backwards to avoid the seething black tendril aimed at my throat, shocked at how fast it had been. My continued retreat was short lived; worn red brick met my back a moment before the second tendril whipped across my face, so dreadfully cold it burned. The force of the blow sent me skidding across the floor, seeing stars. Shaking, I got to my feet as fast as I could, finding Raven still clear across the loft, not having moved an inch. Not that she really needed to. An unseen force lifted me off the ground, hurling me back across the room like a rag doll. I landed in a graceless heap, swearing under my breath as I scrambled upright.

"You're not even going to fight fair?" I glared.

Her laugh seethed through the room like a winter breeze, leaving me shuddering where I stood. "Fair? Oh Jinx…" She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, quirking a smile as she took a very slow step forward. "Don't be crass." Another barely visible tendril shoved forward, throwing me backwards into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of me.

Restraint has never been one of my skills, and I berated myself for my stupidity as I strained to catch my breath. "I deserved that," I murmured, rubbing my already bruising jaw.

"That and more, my love," she replied without inflection.

I cringed at the monotone. It wasn't a good sign. It's best to change the subject when she brings out the monotone. A million questions whirled through my mind, yet it was "Why did you keep this place?" that came out of my mouth.

"_Why didn't you?_" she snapped.

Gravity was pulling me down, making me feel smaller and smaller as the seconds ticked by. "I don't know."

"Yes you do," her tone shifted to sickly sweet, indicating I was, in fact, only making things worse. If memory served well, I probably only had a few more seconds to think of something intelligent to say before something got broken. She was suddenly in front of me, pinning me in place with her reptilian stare. I didn't even see her move. "Humans are jealous creatures by nature. When things go wrong, they automatically assume the worst. You, Jinx, aren't human, and neither am I. Where does that leave us, then?"

Gods, she was too close. I didn't have it in me to hit her back, so I wasn't harboring any illusions about who would win this fight. Clearly her ploy was to make me squirm out of my skin, otherwise I would have been dead ages ago. "I don't know," I whispered, as if that somehow lessened the disappointment she would feel at my ignorant reply.

Her smile lacked any warmth; her fingertip was cool against my skin as she traced the scratch on my collar bone she had given me up on stage at the Burlesque. "You took my journal because you thought I was being unfaithful. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object?"

Confusion knitted my brow as I scrambled to find reason in the madness she was creating. "That's an impossible situation," I said slowly, watching her one brow rise in an invitation to keep speaking. "Only one can exist at a time."

"Precisely; that leaves us at a crossroad then, doesn't it." It wasn't a question. She only deepened her smile. "So which are you?"

I stared blankly at her, trying to decide how to avoid what was sure to come next. "Neither."

"Because you can't be either when you're nowhere to be found, right?" she needled almost playfully, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on me.

I took a slow, deep breath, trying to keep my growing anger in check. "What do you want from me, Raven?"

The woman before me lifted her arm, pointing across the room in an elegant gesture, never breaking the stare that was making my heart sputter in my chest. "Five years ago you walked right out that door and never looked back. _Why?_" That last word held the first touch of emotion I'd witnessed since her appearance. It was heart-wrenchingly genuine torment that derailed my thoughts. "_What could I have possibly done to you to deserve that?_"

My stomach was trying to claw its way out of my throat to escape the nausea I was feeling being on the receiving end of that question. I swallowed, twice, and fiddled with the zipper of my coat as my mind fizzled away. It's best not to lie. There is no point in it anymore. No point in it ever. Don't lie. It hurt to admit, but I licked my lips and whispered, "I was scared."

Raven blinked, clearly not expecting that response from me. Some of the tension in the air between us dissipated with the sideways glance she eyed me with. "What were you scared of?"

Was she serious? "…I was scared of you, Raven."

Now she looked genuinely confused.

"Why is that so hard to believe? You're part demon; _you could simply end me at any moment_. Do you have any idea how intimidating it is to be with someone that can read your thoughts when you can't even tell if they're really smiling? Christ, Raven, you're fucking scary in general."

"Why didn't you tell me this five years ago?" Raven's confusion evaporated, replaced with narrow-eyed anger that pricked my skin like daggers. "If I was so _fucking_ scary, why did you want to move in together?"

"_I don't know!_" I shouted belligerently.

"_You don't know?_" she actually yelled back, shocking me. Raven never yelled.

There was a pause of several seconds where we stood staring one another down before I just couldn't take it anymore.

"I was so in love with you I could barely stand it! It changed me into a person I didn't recognize. One look from you reduced me to a pathetic puddle of mush at your feet. That terrified me—this right here," I indicated the sparse two feet between us, "this terrifies me. I couldn't defend myself if you attacked me, even if I wanted to!" I didn't care that I was yelling like an idiot, the words just kept coming and I couldn't stop. "What made it even worse was that you seemed completely unaffected by me. Sure, you'd smile, laugh at my jokes, but you could be standing right here, inches from me, and it was like you were a million miles away. The only time you ever let down your guard was when we had sex, and as soon as I admitted that I loved you, you shut down. _You were always wrapped up so tightly that I couldn't tell if you really cared about me or just enjoyed a warm body to sleep next to_," I hissed, leaning closer to her.

She watched me unblinking behind that unreadable Mona Lisa frown, only adding fuel to the fire.

"Not to mention the past twenty-four hours of hell that you've put me through. Taunting, toying, driving me _fucking_ mad. Look how easy it was for you to just slip into this sadistic game. I haven't seen you in half a decade and you appear out of the blue with five years worth of bitterness ready to cram down my throat. How dare you question why I would be afraid of _you!_"

The growing silence that followed was deafening and unbearable. She was staring at me with the most hurtful look I'd ever seen in my life; impossibly, my throat tightened and tears pricked my eyes. Raven turned away.

"You thought I didn't care," her voice was a soft whisper to herself than I wasn't sure she meant for me to hear. "You left in the middle of the night, left me here in our home, surrounded by our things without a word. I woke up to an empty space beside me, thinking you would come back. I thought you would come back," she chewed on her lip in an astonishing display of humanity. "So I waited. You never called. You never came back."

"You're right. It was very shitty of me to do that to you and I really am sorry. I'm impulsive and have a bad temper and I let it get the better of me," I admitted, bitter shame tingeing my words.

Raven turned towards me, finding my eyes. "Did you find what you expected in my journal?"

My chest ached, voice horse and cracking. "No, I didn't."

She crossed her arms and moved across the loft, sinking down onto the couch, looking away. "That's why you didn't come back."

I shook my head slowly, desperately trying to speak past the invisible hand of despair clenching my throat. "I didn't come back because I felt like an idiot. I was scared of being in love, and you… you were scared of being yourself. If you couldn't be yourself around me then how could I possibly keep you from finding someone that made you feel whole?" A hot tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away with the back of my hand, looking everywhere but at Raven.

"Do you think I'm a monster?"

I jerked my head around to look at her. "_What?_"

"Do you think I am a monster," she repeated in a slow, guarded voice while she stared out the window.

A little voice in the back of my head began chanting _choose your next words carefully_. "I think you could be, if you wanted to. You could be anyone you want to be, Raven. The problem is that you don't want to be you."

She looked at me then with actual astonishment, like the thought had never occurred to her before. "I don't want to be me?" Her tone was incredulous, but her eyes were vulnerable.

I gestured hesitantly towards the bookshelf. "Would you have written that journal otherwise?"

Silence reigned like a monsoon. I wasn't sure if I had chosen my words carefully enough, but the chant continued with persistent enthusiasm. Raven uncrossed her arms, crossed her legs instead, then abruptly stood. She walked towards me briskly, at a pace I could have escaped had I been prepared for her to actually _walk_.

When she reached for me, I flinched. Her hand hesitated, shoulders slumping hurtfully before that cool hand slipped behind my neck. Raven gently pulled me forward until her lips met mine in a kiss so soft and sweet I thought I might die. My pulse skyrocketed, knees grew weak, and mind fluttered in dizzying disbelief. _She's kissing me?_ I stood there, faintly trembling as a kaleidoscope of feelings washed through my system. How I had missed this, those soft lips, her scent, the sound of her voice. I didn't realize just how deeply I had ached for her until this moment, close enough to feel her warmth.

She gradually pulled away, meeting my uncertain gaze with one of resigned sadness. "I'm sorry, Jinx," she said quietly, voice wavering with emotion she was unaccustomed to experiencing. I just stared at her, reduced to bewilderment from just one kiss. Her hand was warming at the back of my neck, and with a chill that jolted through my bones, we materialized in a familiar hotel room.

"_Jesus Christ_," I whispered, trying not to shake. She let go, taking a step away from me.

"Your client doesn't exist," she murmured apologetically.

I blinked very slowly, lips parting as it sunk in. A wisp of black smoke engulfed her as she quickly faded away from this reality, those haunting violet eyes settling me with a lingering stare that felt like the worst kind of goodbye.

"Wait!" I leapt forward, catching only air in the space the woman had just been occupying a heartbeat ago. Frustration erupted from me in a series of shouts and broken furniture, wreaking havoc until I couldn't breathe anymore. I slumped to the floor of my old hotel room in London, scanning my few belongings scattered in disarray, suffocating in confusion and longing that sent tears streaming down my cheeks.

That woman drove me mad.


	5. Chapter 5

The tiny oval window was cold against my forehead as I watched clouds streak by at six hundred miles an hour. I let my focus shift to the empty space between the two sheets of acrylic that made up the windows of the commercial jet I was currently occupying. Even something so simple as looking out a window was accompanied by double pain glass that made me ache. It had taken me three days since I was dropped unceremoniously back in London, disturbed and upset with Raven's apparent goodbye, to get to this first class seat on flight 5899, service from St. Louis to Seattle. To say I was beside myself would be a mockery of the statement.

Everything was a jumbled mass of suspicion, excitement, longing and anxiety, making even the smallest task of packing my things, hailing a cab, and flying my plane back to the states seem horribly arduous. When I landed at JFK I practically ran down the concourse for the customs check point. Airport staff had to chase me down, reminding me that I left my baggage on the plane, along with my pilot security clearance pass and passport. That slip-up landed me an automatic trip to the TSA office, where I was questioned for flying an entire private jet to London and back, without any other passengers. My response of "it's a _private_ jet" only lengthened my interrogation to several hours. They didn't scare me. In fact, they could learn a thing or two about intimidation from a certain woman I know.

Once they were convinced that I was probably just a lunatic, they let me go, but not before taking my Mars Bars under the pretext of being possible narcotics in disguise. Honestly, it's the pink eyes and Cheshire cat smile. TSA hates me and my sense of humor.

My ears popped as the plane began its decent into the Seattle-Tacoma area, jostling me slightly as we passed through a wall of storm clouds. Rain pelted the window. Somewhere in coach, a baby started crying. Make that three babies. Some woman was talking loudly, trying to sooth one of the offending parasites with all the musical talent of a Beluga whale. A flight attendant came over the loudspeaker, reminding everyone for the umpteenth times to buckle up and shut up, we were almost there. That's what I would have said, if I was the flight attendant.

To be perfectly honest, I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Granted, that was normal, but in this situation a little confidence would have been nice. Three days was like a millennia when we're talking about someone that can teleport across the globe in the blink of an eye. Raven could be anywhere. The apartment could be empty when I finally got there, left in broken shambles from her hurried exodus. Despite this pertinent information, I had a feeling, however hopeful and naïve it may be, that Raven would be there. If she wasn't… I'll cross that bridge when I got there. Then burn it, for good measure. Then cry about it alone in my big house with a pint of ice cream. You know what? She just better fucking be there. Yeah. _Yeah_.

After a rather rocky landing that I could have done much more elegantly, the plane taxied down the runway towards the gate. I stared out my little window, noting the gloomy weather, the airport staff running around like orange ants, and the resounding fact that despite my career, I hadn't been back to Seattle since I left. It was a bit daunting, added on top of the chance I was taking showing back up here. Who knew what had changed? Was that little coffee shop I loved so much still open around the corner from the loft? Did the bus still stop by there every two hours?

The mull of the crowd disembarking sounded like a herd of cattle; occasional exclamations of uncertainty, the jostling collision of bags hitting other people's appendages, the clatter of hard plastic wheels rat-tat-tatting the tile lines in the linoleum. Their pace was a stampede, yet still much too slow for my liking. Being tall, lanky, and agile was a bonus, especially when dodging lost tourists and directionless elderly strewn about the concourse like obstacles in a disturbed version of Frogger.

Left, left, no! Go back! Back, back, right, forward, pause! Pause, you idiot! There's a fucking semi right there. Right, left, left—Goddamnit! That car came out of _nowhere_.

Like any marginally intelligent person lacking any real goal in life, I traveled light with carry-on to avoid the whole fiasco of luggage return. Besides, my baggage was the kind you couldn't lose. The emotional kind. The masterfully obtuse, broken moral compass, can I please have one more?—kind. I slung my well-loved mail bag over my shoulder and headed for the Taxis.

Of course there was a line. You know, the kind with visual structure; little yellow poles, rope, directional arrows painted on the sidewalk. Enter here. Wait here. Continue waiting here until someone in uniform directs you to do otherwise. I've never been very good with following the rules. Which is precisely why when I ducked around the corner and ran to the closest cab parked at the curb, a shrill whistle sounded like a prison break.

"Ma'am, you can't get in that cab," a Seattle police officer's very authoritative voice informed me.

The hell I can't. I ignored him, opened the back door and dove inside in a surge of nostalgic joy. _Ha-ha!_ "Fremont, step on it!" I shouted, slamming the door shut and locking it just as the cop came to a stop by the curb. It took exactly three seconds of nothing happening for me to realize that there wasn't a driver in the cab. I glanced out the window.

The cop was staring at me like I was an idiot.

I glanced back at the empty driver's seat, to the keys still in the ignition. If only there wasn't this stupid plastic partition keeping me from diving over the seat and tearing off down the road. I could have been in the back of a police car for all the good my stubborn vigil did me.

"Ma'am, come on out of there," he sighed.

This certainly was a buzz kill. I sullenly got out of the cab, standing there beside him awkwardly. "I'm just gonna go get in line over there," I pointed to the Taxi line, waiting for a nod of some sort from the cop.

Instead I got, "I need to see your identification, Ma'am."

"Seriously?" I balked.

He looked me over, from my messy brown hair and pink eyes, to my black leather jacket, skinny jeans, and pink Converses. "Seriously," he intoned.

Muttering now, I dug around in my bag, handing him my Missouri Driver's License with narrowed eyes. I didn't have time for this. He took it, reading it over before getting on the radio. "2477, I've got one white female to run by Missouri OLN." I sent a fleeting glance at the steadily moving taxi line fifty feet away. He read off my license number and waited.

"Why, exactly, am I being run through NCIC?" I asked, alternating my gaze from the Taxi's to the earpiece of his radio that kept whatever was being said secret.

"Jennifer Shalecrest?" he asked, waiting for my hesitant nod. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"Of course it's my real name," I gestured in offense, despite it not being my real name. "Why?"

He played with my license in his hands, looking it over again, periodically glancing up at me. "I've seen your face before. You're eyes are hard to forget."

Oh God. There's no telling where this guy's seen my face. I was on the news almost weekly when I was younger, and I'm pretty sure I made national news at least a handful of times. I stared at him, trying to remember his face, finding it absolutely pointless because I was damn sure I'd never seen him before. Nor did I want to be seeing him presently. Especially since Shamu from coach just waddled past me with her still-crying little mackerel of a child.

I crossed my arms and sighed. "Look, Officer…" I squinted at his name tag, "Paiva. I don't want any trouble. I'm sorry I dove into an unoccupied cab, I'm in a hurry. I really have somewhere important to be so if I'm good to go, I'd like to go get in line before they run out of cabs."

"I know where I've seen you!" he exclaimed suddenly, making my teeth hurt and criminal conscience cringe. "You're photo is up on a billboard over by Pike Place Market. The one with the leather pants and the hat. You look different with long brown hair."

…say what?

My confusion lingered like it was waiting for the second shoe to drop. When it didn't, I scrambled to recover from my complete cluelessness, feigning indifference. "I always forget about that. The things you do for money when you're a college kind, right?" I chuckled uneasily, willing him to give me back my ID so I could get the hell out of here.

Seeming pleased with his investigatory skills, he handed me my license. "Have a nice evening," he said before heading off down the sidewalk towards a group of obviously lost Asians. I, however, just stood there. Now not only did I have to find Raven, but I had to track down this alleged photo of me wearing leather pants that's being displayed for all the city to see. I wouldn't have been worried, aside from the fact that I _do_ own not one, but three, pairs of leather pants and have an extremely low tolerance for alcohol. I hurried to the taxi line, trying to remember the last time I wore leather pants and why I would have been anywhere near someone with a camera whilst wearing them. The fact that my hair has been brown for more than eight years had me worried as well.

I managed to get a moderately tolerable driver who only tired twice to engage me in casual conversation. He was nice, cute even, but I didn't care. I was too self-absorbed, running scenarios through my mind. Running my conversation with Raven through my mind… I found the irony quite fitting, that after everything, Raven was the one to run away. There was little chance I could find her, especially if she didn't want to be found. _Christ, what am I doing here?_

When the cab pulled up to the address I sat frozen in the backseat, just staring out the window as the gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. The weather-worn paint, the rod iron handrails lining the stone steps, the ivy growing out of control across the building. Everything looked the same. Untouched by time. It made me nauseous.

"This is it, right?" the driver asked, peering at me through the divider.

"This is it," I replied mildly, mouth dry.

"…are you going to get out?"

My eyes dropped to the door handle, like I suddenly didn't have the capacity or confidence to operate the device. "I don't know."

"Ah, I get it. Going to see someone special?" he inquired gently.

"If she's there," I scanned the windows up on the fourth floor, trying to decide if the lights were on or if I was imagining things.

"Well, you made it this far," he shuffled around in his front seat, then slid the plastic partition aside, extending a business card. "If you get up there and change your mind, just give me a call and I'll come rescue you," he grinned.

I don't know why I took the card. Maybe it satisfied some primal need for a means of escape. Regardless, I was being chicken shit and I hated it. I glanced at the meter and pulled out some cash, paying the driver whose name I'm sure I was told but didn't remember. The card said Ian Dravski. "Thanks Ian," I said while yanking myself out of the car, shouldering my bag as I mustered up my wavering poise.

_You can do this, Jinx. Just walk in that door, up those steps, and into that apartment. Tell Raven you don't appreciate being pulled around on a string. Yeah, that sounds good. And while you're at it, tell her you hate her cooking_. The cab sputtered away with a puff of exhaust, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. _Actually, don't tell her the cooking part. Baby steps_.

"Are you lost?"

I blinked to my left, spotting a pretty woman with bags of groceries in both hands. Her hair was a long dark brown pulled back from her face, exposing her equally dark brown eyes. She was standing there by the steps, obviously waiting for my reply.

"No, I'm not lost. Just mentally preparing myself," I eyed the door atop the steps like it might turn into a Department of Public Safety or any other hell you can think of.

"Preparing yourself for what?" she smiled curiously as she hopped up the steps and fiddled with the door code. I watched her open the door and linger there with it propped open, giving me a look questioning why I was still standing down here.

"The inevitable, I suppose." I ascended the steps, gingerly holding open the door so she could shuffle inside with her things.

"Don't sound so excited," she teased, bumping the elevator button. It dinged open immediately and she stepped inside. "Going up?"

"No, I'm taking the stairs. Thanks, though," I waved, watching the doors clank shut before turning to the ominous staircase. I always took the stairs here, primarily because _old-ass_ _creepy elevator + bad luck charm = disaster_. It's a proven fact. Look it up.

I pretty much took my sweet ass time walking up those steps, pausing at every sound I heard like I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. Was I supposed to be here? I didn't know. I did know, however, that the people in the loft on the third floor were cooking Indian food and it smelled delicious. It was probably that woman with the groceries. However, the bright red door that met me on the landing of the fourth floor was as foreboding as the like in any respectable horror movie. What was behind that door? You had an idea, but you weren't completely sure, and that uncertainty was perhaps the scariest thing of all. Even more scary than the monster on the other side, was the potential for there to _not_ be a monster on the other side. Or in my case, a demon. _I am so stalling_.

I hesitantly fished around in my pocket, pulling out a single silver key, rubbing it between my fingers as I stared at the door. The only way to know if it still worked was to try. But that would mean I'd have to move my feet that were cemented in place, take several steps, and actually slide the key in the lock. Taking those few steps was sheer agony, like slowly peeling off a band-aide on a very sensitive patch of skin. I closed my eyes, leaning against the door, listening. It was hard to tell if anyone was home with the loud cooking and clanking of the loft downstairs. I took a step back, chewing my lip. Do I knock or unlock the door? _Knock…unlock…knock…unlock…_ Both sounded like horrible ideas.

Fuck it.

I slid the key in the lock, surprised when it freely turned, clicking open. That tiny, insignificant sound was like a foghorn during a funeral, filling me with a flood of adrenaline, excitement and dread. I turned the doorknob, cringing when the door creaked, and decided to just shove it open for a dramatic entrance. The door hit the wall louder than I would have liked. I took two steps inside and froze when a woman walked around the corner of the kitchen. The woman with the groceries.

She looked at the open door and the key still clearly in my hand before scrunching her face up in an odd mixture of anger and confusion. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

This wasn't right... Why would grocery girl be here? She didn't look like a housekeeper. This can't be right. "Uh…I think I have the wrong apartment," I backtracked, lingering in the doorway, still staring as I scanned the loft, finding it to be exactly as I had left it a few days prior.

"Why do you have a key to my door?" she shouted, taking a few menacing steps towards me with an unopened carton of orange juice in one hand, the other pointing at me like I was some anathema.

I almost walked completely out until something caught my eye. I blinked, noticing one of my paintings hanging across the loft. It was perhaps my best work ever; a black, grey, white, and blue tainted city scape, illuminated by a lonely full moon. One I had painted for Raven. "I used to live here," I shifted my gaze to the orchid-covered wooden table under the window. _This is real. This is fucking real._

She paused, looking at me then like I had suddenly grown another head. Her expression shifted to suspicion. "Outside you said you were preparing yourself for the inevitable. Why are you here?"

"Why are _you_ here?" I snapped, filled with an instantaneous jealously that frightened me. This used to be my home, where did this bitch get off interrogating me? I put my hand on the door when she tried to close it in my face, effortlessly keeping it open as I stared her down. "And what the fuck are you doing in _my_ kitchen?"

"Get out of here, you freak!" she screeched, desperately trying to shut the door. When I pushed it open further, she threw the carton of juice at my face and took off for the cell phone on the kitchen counter, presumably to call the police. I was there before she was, blocking her way. "_Jesus! What do you want?_" she stumbled backwards.

"Where's Raven?" I said with seething calm, teeth clenched and hands balled into fists at my sides.

"Who?" she asked, confusion clear as day in her pretty brown eyes. "I think you really do have the wrong apartment, I have no idea who Raven is."

Lies. All of it. I turned, yanking open the cupboards. "Do you see this?" I held up a black coffee mug with a pair of red eyes painted on the matte ceramic. "I made this for _Raven_. You see this drawer here? It's crammed full of takeout chopsticks and silverware because _Raven_ can't cook and she insisted I didn't all the time." I flung open the pantry, confirming my suspicions with a rueful laugh. "Fucking hell, who else would keep so much herbal tea?"

"Please, just get out," she kept eyeing the cell phone that was on the counter between us.

_I dare you. I double-dog dare you_. I smiled. The scuff of a shoe ripped my attention to the doorway.

The look of surprise on Raven's face was absolutely genuine; the woman had little reason to practice the expression otherwise. Violet eyes wide, lips parted, hand frozen half-way to the door knob on the still open door. I took great satisfaction in witnessing this milestone, until it was ripped away by the exhalation of relief from the brown-eyed girl.

"Cassie, thank god! Do you know this _lunatic_?" she sneered in my general direction as she wrapped her arms around Raven. "She says she's looking for someone named Raven, and she had a key to the door."

I quirked a very slow brow, locking eyes with the incredibly pale demon in the doorway. This was just priceless, really. I crossed my arms, smiling unpleasantly. "Hello _Cassie_."

Raven unwrapped the woman from around herself and shut the door. It was very obvious to me that she was desperately trying to come up with a plan for something she never guessed would happen. "I wasn't expecting you so soon Jennifer," she said tightly. Code for: _You win this round. Next round, you're dead_.

"You know her?" the woman exclaimed, arms spread wide in classic _WTF?_ fashion. "Is she your _ex?_"

This one was quick. I waited expectantly for Raven's sure to be smooth reply. Raven was always smooth. Just like how she's always right, even when she's wrong. This should be good.

"Yes, Helena, she's my ex," Raven said, voice as flat as road kill as she gave me a look that was too proud to be pleading and too arrogant to indulge.

"And you weren't even going to tell me she was just going to stop on by?" Helena was pissed now. Rightly so, I suppose. If I were in her shoes, I would have simply killed the offending ex-girlfriend and made Raven, excuse me, _Cassie_ grovel for months.

"Really, Cassie, you didn't even tell her I was stopping by to visit?" I chided, drumming my nails on the counter. "Here I thought we were going to have a nice conversation alone together, and I walk in to find some strange woman in my kitchen. You know my temper, this could have been a disaster."

"_Your_ kitchen?" Raven's brows rose, tone dropping.

"Yes," I shot back. "_My_ kitchen. We agreed it was mine years ago. The den is yours. That's why it's a lame-ass meditation spot."

"Years?" Helena interjected, poking a finger at Raven's chest dangerously. "You told me you only had one ex, and that she was Asian. She is not Asian. Her eyes are pink, for Christ sake!"

Poor girl, she must be confused about the difference between a girlfriend and a victim.

"Helena, stop it," Raven moved her aside, probably to keep her out of the way of the world of hurt that was headed in my direction. She closed the distance, placing both her hands on the counter that now stood between us as she leered at me. "What are you doing here?" she murmured.

My gaze flickered to Helena and back before I waved absently, mood very sour. "Apparently interrupting."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "_You_ left, not me. Don't you dare try and play the martyr."

"Martyr? Not really my style, love. I'm just at a loss, I guess. You track me down, tease and torture me, then run off without finishing what you started. Then I find out you have a squeeze on the side too?" I mimicked her body language, leaning forward across the counter until her lips were only inches from mine. "You are even more of a sadist than I thought," I whispered, brow arched in silent challenge.

Raven's eyes were dark as sin. She said nothing, remaining motionless in predatory calm.

"What is she talking about?" Helena, on the other hand, was getting even more irate. "I thought you were on a business trip!"

"Oh, it was a trip. But it certainly wasn't business," I smiled, adding in a lower, sexual tone, "_she missed me_."

"_What?_" came a shriek.

Something shifted behind Raven's expression that I couldn't describe. It was disquieting, yes, and yet so… yielding. A thread of arousal wove through my stomach and I took a deep breath to keep from shuddering. "Well, I won't keep you two. I just wanted to return this," I pulled Raven's journal out of my bag and dropped it on the counter. Raven glanced down at it, expression furrowing in recognition. I headed for the door before the proverbial shit hit the fan.

"Wait," Raven called out.

"No, _don't_ wait, get the fuck out!" Helena followed, practically slamming me in the door as she shut it. I heard the locks click cleanly in place, followed by her loud, frantic shouting. Something solid hit the floor and I wondered if it was her pretty dumb head. She had absolutely no idea who she was dating. You don't scream at Raven like that and not expect furious and swift retribution.

I took the stairs two at a time, hurrying away with malicious elation. That did not go as expected, not that I really had any expectations. But it left me feeling good. Smug. Attaining the upper hand, even if it was only temporary, felt _absolutely glorious_. And while a part of me truly was jealous with the discovery of Helena, the more rational side realized that she wasn't a love interest. She wasn't a replacement, competition, or a threat. She was a lamb, sleeping with a wolf in sheep's clothing. Raven had needs, you see. Needs that had absolutely nothing to do with love or intimacy. She really did like to play with her food.

Of course, after this little stunt, I was sure to experience the true meaning of suffering at the hands of Raven. But as I reached the sidewalk and glanced up at that fourth floor set of windows, a smile spread clear across my face in masochistic glee.

I never was one to let sleeping demons lie.


	6. Chapter 6

"Check down that street again, maybe we missed it," I grumbled, face plastered to the window of a cab as it crept along in afternoon traffic. I was about sick to death of cabs. Not to mention staring out windows. And being paranoid. And having justification for said paranoia. Look, I'm just sick in general.

"I've lived here my whole life. I'm pretty sure I'd remember a billboard if you were actually on one," Ian said with a hint of defensiveness that made his black hair and steel grey eyes seem all the more attractive. If I wasn't so incredibly gay I'd probably be interested. However, we'd been driving around Pike Place Market for what seemed like an hour looking for a giant image of me, which apparently was more of a challenge than originally planned. Patience was wearing thin.

"The cop at the airport seemed pretty confident. How the hell could you forget these eyes? Add in hot pink hair and leather pants and you've got yourself quite an odd billboard, no? Surely you've just missed it."

He shot me a skeptical look and turned down the street. "You are absolutely sure he said Pike Place?"

"Yes," I droned. "Christ, man. I'm not making this up. I don't even want it to be true, but I have to be sure that if it does exist, that it's promptly destroyed."

"Why?"

I stared at the back of his head until he glanced at me in the growing silence. I narrowed my eyes to slits. "_Because_."

"Ooooh," he smirked. "You didn't know it was there at all. Who'd you piss off?"

_The Daughter of Trigon_. "An ex," I said tightly, pointing over his shoulder. "There, we haven't gone down that street."

"That's because it's a dead-end alley. You see those pot holes? I can't afford new tires, no matter how cute you may be."

"Fine!" I huffed, shoving open the door as the car slowed to a stop. "I'll go check on foot. You better be here when I get back," I pointed a menacing finger at him through the window. He put the cab in park and smiled sweetly at me, petting the still-running meter. Greedy Russian.

I adjusted my jacket and headed down the alley, eyes skyward. Seattle had artwork, graffiti, and other colorful objects on the side of almost every building, decorating the city in a unique, rich cultural blend like nowhere else in the world. It was no wonder I was having difficulty finding that stupid alleged billboard. Leave it to Raven to be so perversely vengeful. Of course I was only making an assumption that Raven would take a photo of me and turn it into a poster. And considering where jumping to conclusions has gotten me thus far is my life, I was growing a tad bit cautious as the hours passed. Maybe it wasn't here. Maybe it didn't exist. Maybe, just like before, I was being absurd. I just didn't know anymore.

But I was sure of one thing. The fact that Raven lied about her identity to her cute little girlfriend meant that she was actually miserable. That knowledge brought little solace to me. Sure, sometimes I wanted to kill the woman, but I loved her. I understood her better than anyone else on this earth. _Love her still_. And I left her.

A light drizzle started, filling the narrow alley with a gloomy _pitter-patter_ symphony. As I passed loading areas and smaller alleys leading off of the main one, I couldn't help the melancholy that settled on my shoulders. My senses were fried. I'd gone through the spectrum of human emotion in a consistent chaos for the past week and the sudden respite left me feeling like my soul had been ripped from me. Not even the giant caricature of Nixon spray painted on the wall made me smile.

A chain link fence continued the alley on my left, letting grey sky illuminate the gravel walk, reflecting in the puddles. The crunch of the stone beneath my feet lulled me into a far-off place of distraction I seldom ventured to but desperately longed for. Sleepy smiles in the early morning quiet; wandering caresses across the dinner table; mingled laughter. I missed those things dearly and wished I could simply bury them away. Memories are cruel reminders that the past is dead and gone. I could never go back to the way things were before I'd fucked everything up and deserted the woman I loved. She had moved on like I had moved on. _Right?_ If she had moved on, then why did she come find me? _…Right?_

A sudden loud series of barks right at my side scared the absolute hell out of me. I glared at the Rottweiler on the other side of the fence, snarling and growling in my direction, and froze as my vision focused on something in the distance. On the building two lots behind the dog's yard was a billboard riveted into the side of the brick. And on that billboard was an image of me. "Oh my fucking god…"

I had to be only twenty at the time, dressed in tight leather pants, stiletto boots and a black top that left little to the imagination. My hair was cut short, styled in a messy wave of spikes and colored my trademark pink. One hand was tipping the front of a fedora low on my head, leaving just my eyes and Cheshire cat smile visible in the shadow of the lighting. I had absolutely no memory of ever wearing that, let alone posing for a photo. Was I seeing things? After promptly blinking several times, I laced my fingers in the chain link, leaning closer, ignoring the guard dog's more fervent barks. There was something written on the side of the billboard but I couldn't make out what it said.

All previous doubts were discredited; this was definitely Raven's work.

I sprinted back towards the street, adrenaline coursing through my veins like a welcomed drug. I needed to know what that billboard said. I needed to know how long it had been up there. I needed to know _why_. As I neared the cab I glanced back in the direction of the building, trying to orient myself so I could direct Ian. _Two streets up, three avenues over_. "I found it! Turn around and turn right on the second street!" I exclaimed as I vaulted into the cab, slamming the door shut behind me. I rubbed the rain out of my eyes. "I knew we passed it. You should have listened to me, you commie bastard."

The sound of the locks clicking into place was unnaturally loud. Even before I opened my eyes I knew something was terribly wrong. That's instincts for you; a sixth sense that gives you a heads up to danger and never enough time to react. I cracked one eye open and my breath came out with a _whoosh_. Raven leered at me through the plastic partition, hair wet and dripping about her face, jaw set in anger.

My pulse throbbed, throat dried, eyes widened and confidence shriveled to nothingness. Granted, I knew I'd pay for the loft stunt, but I didn't expect her to be so damn _fast_. It hadn't even been two hours. Against all rationality, I laughed. Then I tried to open the door, only laughing harder when it wouldn't open, even after I pried the little plastic piece up. The laugh faded into a panic as I tried to kick the windows out, finding it absolutely useless. She had done something to the cab. Fucking demon magic. Claustrophobia hit me like a slap to the face, making my voice faint and airy. "What did you do with Ian?"

"He's in the trunk."

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Her brow twitched and I regretted asking. Raven turned around and threw the cab in gear, tearing off down the street like a bat out of hell. I gripped the door handle and the back of the seat, trying to remain in a somewhat up-right fashion. Christ, I didn't miss her driving. "…where are we going?"

No reply. Unless a sudden left turn that made me bite my tongue could be taken as: _you will see_.

This was stupid. Also, not how I planned to die. Anything less than a spectacular display of irony is not acceptable. Being driven mad by my demon ex is too anti-climactic. How could I possibly fix this? _Make it worse!_ How do I do that? _Be spiteful!_

"So _Cassie_, how did that talk go with Helena?"

She actually growled; a hair-raising sound that filled the interior of the vehicle with all the menace of a natural predator. It gave me goose bumps and not entirely in a bad way. Raven exhaled slowly the word "_Splendidly_." A horn blew from somewhere on the right and I cringed for the impact that never came.

_It's working, keep poking the demon._ "I can imagine. You certainly took me off guard. I never pegged you for a player. She's not the only one you've got, is she?" I drawled. "Must be fun for you to string them all along like that. It was obvious that she didn't live there, despite her presumptuous use of the word '_my_'."

"I'm trying out '_keeping my options open_,'" she said crisply, slamming on the brakes to avoid a pick-up at the red light.

_I might have whiplash before I finish my next sentence_. "Is that what you're doing… How's that working out for you?"

She turned around and narrowed her eyes at me, seeming more annoyed than angry. "Why are you here, Jinx?"

_I have no idea_... That was a trap question. _AAH! Parry, quickly_! "Why did you pretend to be a client, make me fly you to London, fuck with my head for two days, and then…leave?"

Her stare was blank. "Because I could."

I actually gaped at her. That was a very untypical Raven answer. "Whatever, you're not that kind of hard-ass. I know you, Raven." I crossed my arms and glowered out the window. "Don't lie to me."

Horns blew loudly from behind, wholly ignored. She slowly turned around, staring forward as traffic moved around us.

I chewed on my bottom lip, watching her carefully. "Did you cheat on me?" She gave me an indignant look in the rearview mirror. "I meant while we were together," I explained.

"_How can you even ask that_," she hissed back.

"It's easy," I smiled too sweetly, leaning forward until only a few inches and a slab of plexiglass separated us. I repeated slowly, enunciating the words clearly. "Did you cheat on me while we were together?"

"No."

"No?"

"_No_."

I sat back, arms crossed and pensive in my automotive cell. I was having a difficult time keeping up with her shifting emotions. If she was hard to read before, these years past had only strengthened her guard. "What about things other than sex?"

"Yes Jinx, I did things other than have sex with people other than you," she replied dryly, finally accelerating forward. "What about you?" Her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "Did you cheat on me while we were together?"

"No one in their right mind would cheat on you," I muttered. "I certainly wasn't going to be the first."

"That isn't exactly a straight answer."

"Neither of us are exactly straight people."

"Don't be cute," her voice was razor edged threat that reminded me of the precarious nature of my present situation.

I tried the door again despite it being pointless. "Stop the car, I want out."

"No," she chimed with fake cheer.

Where was she taking me? Why was she driving me around in a cab instead of…well, I wasn't really complaining about it, other than absolutely hating being locked up in any sort of small space. She was throwing me off left and right with her out of character behavior. _Two can play this game_. I abruptly smacked the plexiglass with my hand to get her attention, even though I knew she was completely aware of everything I was doing. "Why did you put that up there? When did you even take that? Why the fuck didn't you tell me!"

She continued driving along at the proper speed limit, as if we were on a pleasant Sunday drive. "I'm sure you get this a lot Jinx, but you're not making any sense."

My eye twitched. I held my breath for ten seconds to keep from saying ill things. "So you have no idea that there is a twelve foot image of me whoring it up in leather on the side of a building in Pike Place. Really. I find that _really _hard to believe."

"Oh, that." She chuckled, pleased with herself. "I'd completely forgotten about that."

"Half of Seattle hasn't!" I yelled, instantly angered by her nonchalance.

"You'd have to be pretty forgetful to forget an image like that," she said dryly, flashing me a coy smirk over her shoulder.

My teeth hurt from clenching my jaw. "I've never even worn that outfit before!"

"Obviously you did."

"Goddamnit, Raven!" I kicked the door with a frustrated huff, infuriated with her. "You are such a bitch."

Raven slowly pulled the car to the curb, put it in park, and killed the engine. The following silence was deafening and seemingly endless. Something occurred to me as I waited for a wretched and horrid thing to rip me into manageable sized pieces while the demon smiled like Christmas morning. She had been toying with me, driving me around aimlessly in a tiny contained box, provoking me to anger. It was exactly what she wanted: I took the bait. _Oh shit… _

"How long have you wanted to say that out loud to me, love?" she cooed at me through the glass with a terrifying smile.

"No! Raven, no—stay over there, don't touch me!" I crammed myself as far as I could into the opposite corner of the cab, hands up and ready for anything. Or so I thought. I watched in slow-motion helplessness as that smiling demon passed through the division of the cab like it wasn't even there, suddenly straddling my lap. She pinned my wrists above my head and moaned softly in my ear.

"_Let's play_."

I swear to God, she made this particular jump from the cab to some strange location as slow as possible. Glacial air pricked my skin like thousands of needles, ripping the breath from my lungs. A high, kneeing scream filled my ears and I hoped that it wasn't my own. Raven was still wrapped around me, but I felt something else touch my cheek, a sticky, slimy, cold caress that utterly repulsed me. As soon as we materialized in reality my back met a hard surface, jarring a yelp from my lips that were too close to Raven's wide smile. I shoved her away as hard as I could, immediately wiping at my cheek in panicked rage.

I scrambled to my feet, scanning my surroundings with increasing alarm. Industrial warehouse. No witnesses. No one to hear my screams. This was it. My heart thundered in my chest in wave after wave of anxiety as I focused on Raven a few feet away. Every muscle in my body was coiled tight in anticipation; it was only a matter of moments before I exploded in an uncontrollable release of pent-up frustration.

"You really don't like that, do you?" she mused, brushing a strand of rain-soaked hair out of her eyes. "Travelling the gap, that is."

I growled.

"Someone's a might bit grumpy," she lowered her chin faintly, settling me with a level stare. "Have something on your mind?"

It had been years since I'd openly attacked someone with my powers. There was a moment, as I unclenched my fists, where I wasn't completely sure I could even muster the focus to unleash them; but as soon as the muscles of my arms began the rapid forward gesture of throwing something that wasn't there, I felt it. Whatever _**it**_ was, that unexplainable aura, unpredictable mystery of magic that unleashed misfortune. The force of the release was like a shockwave, knocking me back a step as a translucent fuchsia orb manifested in front of Raven.

Only her eyes widening a fraction of an inch told me she hadn't expected the attack. All she could do was brace for impact as a stack of shipping crates exploded beside her, sending a wall of shrapnel and wood in every direction. The sheer octave the chaos reached left my ears ringing. I choked on the cloud of dust as everything settled, staring in absolute disbelief as the destruction one flick of my wrist had caused. Raven was nowhere to be seen. That worried me for several reasons. I was torn between rushing to her aide and promptly leaving the country. Not that it would help. _Christ, what did I do…_

I took in a sharp breath as a pale hand emerged from the rubble, shoving a piece of wood away. Raven slowly stood, bits of debris falling from her faintly trembling frame as she peered at me through dusty hair. Bright red blood oozed from a gash above her eye. The look on her face made my heart stop altogether.

My hands shot up in a placating gesture as I took distancing steps away, genuinely fearing for my life now. "Accident! Accident! Raven—I thought you would move—it was an accident, I—" Stammering like an idiot, I watched her brush off her clothing with a casual gesture. She reached up, touching the cut on her brow, and brought it back down. A very slow smile grew as her eyes focused on the vermillion smear she was rubbing between her fingertips.

"First blood, Jinx?" she asked lightly, glancing up at me.

Why wasn't I dead yet? I had no idea how to respond. Staring dumb-stuck had been working well for me so far, why ruin a good thing? _Because that's what I'm good at_. "I wasn't even sure you were capable of bleeding," I said dryly, hoping it covered the slight crack in my voice.

Raven smiled.

In the blink of an eye I was airborne, with long fingers wrapped around my neck and a pair of shockingly violet eyes inches from mine. Whether she was merely pulling a Darth Vaderesque move or something more elaborate, I didn't know. I just felt air beneath my feet and instincts kicked in. Without thought, I brought my knee up in a swift jerk, hitting her square in the gut. She let me go with a short grunt. What little relief I felt was immediately crushed as I fell for several more seconds than anticipated, resulting in my stomach trying to climb out of my throat. I'm sure I made a very pathetic sound as I landed violently in a heap on the cement floor. Know that thing about cat's always landing on their feet? Yeah, didn't quite apply to meta-humans. I was far too slow getting back up.

"I like this new anger," Raven purred from somewhere behind me. The air pressure shifted and then her voice was soft and sensual in my ear. "_It's very arousing_."

I spun, hand reaching for the blow I knew was coming, but she was too quick. Her side-step placed her right beside me, immediately followed by her elbow slamming into my ribs. The hit was forceful but lacking the trademark boost of her magic. I managed to bring my arm down to block a second strike and leapt backwards out of her reach. She followed with a slinking pace and a lopsided smile. She wasn't using her powers. She was fighting…fair? "What are you doing?" I continued keeping the distance between us as she circled.

Again she smiled. "Enjoying myself." A trickle of blood dripped down her cheek, and for the life of me I couldn't look away. She was bleeding. Vulnerable. Seemingly more human than not-human for a moment. Knots twisted my stomach. I wanted to kiss her.

Her forward rush startled me into action. Ducking, I managed to grab her wrist in the exchange, using her momentum against her. I threw her backwards over my shoulder, not surprised when she rolled to her feet and came right back for me with a series of punches and kicks that left me breathless and barely unscathed.

_Shit, she's had these skills all this time?_ A hand went sailing past my face, followed by an elbow and a foot that hit the dead center of my thigh. It dropped me to the floor with the sharpness of the pain, gasping as she snatched a handful of my jacket with both fists and jerked me back up. Her hair was a stringy, tangled mess; clothing disheveled and wet; skin coated in dust and grime, tracked with smears, drops of blood and… she was so _fucking_ beautiful.

I was shoved backwards before I could inhale, skidding across the ground awkwardly, hissing as I felt my elbows skin on the harsh cement. Raven came towards me swiftly, hands reaching. It took a great deal of effort but I swung my leg in a sweeping arc, knocking her feet out from under her, shocked I'd managed the move and even more surprised by the audible "ooof" that came from Raven. I pounced before she could roll away, desperately trying to wrestle her to the ground. She twisted and shifted to the left, and in half a second I was on my back, pinned to the dirty floor by the length of her body.

"Mmm," her breath shifted her hair, lips hovering dangerously close to the pulse throbbing beneath my skin. "Ready to give in?"

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, forcing myself still. "Give in to what?" I murmured, trying to catch my breath and distract from the faint movements of my limbs as I prepared to flip her over.

She pulled back to look into my eyes, expression quizzical. One brow quirked in question before she finally said "You really don't know, do you?"

I was annoyed with her amusement. The force of my shove took her off guard. She fell back and stumbled sideways, trying to recover from the imbalance. Not giving her any time, I launched towards her, tightly gripping her wrist as I twisted it behind her back and shoved her forcefully down on the floor, pinning her free arm beneath her. I lay sprawled on top of her, one knee pressing painfully into the small of her back, the other leg tangled in her own. Raven writhed beneath me, muscle tense and twitching in attempts to get out of her trap. She turned her head with a hiss, trying to crane it back to bite me. I took this opportunity to lace my fingers in her hair and roughly jerked her head sideways at a sharp angle, exposing the long pale expanse of her neck.

It was like flipping a switch. Raven went still and pliant beneath me. I stared in slack jawed disbelief as her eyelids fluttered and a low, evocative moan escaped her lips. "Maybe you do," she whispered, hooded eyes peering darkly up at me with an emotion I couldn't describe.

What was happening? She could easily blast her way out of this. She could snap her fingers and send me into another dimension. She was stronger, faster, more powerful, more insane. Why was she laying there, compliant and…_submissive. Holy shit. Holy fucking demon shit_. I froze as a shudder of absolute arousal rippled beneath my skin. All this time… all these years, and this is what she wanted. How blind was I? It was so incredibly unbelievable I was waiting for time to warp back to reality. But as I sat straddling the beautiful and dangerous Raven, I couldn't help but give in to the glorious rapture of topping her. I shifted my knee from the small of her back to between her legs, lowering my body closer to hers. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," I exhaled, part laugh, part growl.

"I never joke," she murmured lightly, testing, and tried to move; I twisted her arm higher up her back and pinned the side of her face to the ground all in one swift gesture. Raven let out the sexiest mewl in the existence of sounds. I died a little. Maybe a lot.

"Alright, Raven," I drawled, trailing my lips along her jaw with a growing smile. "You win."


	7. Chapter 7

It was chilly in the lofty warehouse, but the wonderfully curvy demon pinned beneath me was so incredibly warm that I was mildly shocked when my breath billowed up in a visible mist. Raven's too was plain as day, though arguably more steady and consistent than my own. I held her arm just as tightly behind her back, refusing to give her an inch as I waited for everything to truly sink in. There was wet warmth at my elbow, trickling down my arm beneath my dirty jacket. My hip hurt. Adrenaline still pumped through my veins like a welcomed agony, only heightened by our combined stillness. Raven was her ever-stoic self, twisted and waiting beneath me. I played my fingers through her hair, smiling thoughtlessly at its silky smoothness as I murmured in her ear. "Not to ruin the moment but…where the hell are we?"

Raven smiled slowly to show teeth, watching me from the corner of her eye. "Does this setting not please you, Jinx?" she asked with enough venom in the sweet sarcasm of her words to drop a horse.

"_No_," I growled, digging my nails into her wrist. "I don't give free shows." Taking that as a cue, she moved her hips in a long, suggestive motion, grinding against the ground, making a very enticing sound that was as arousing as it was distracting. Christ, she was driving me mad.

"I see," she said gravely, still mocking in her tone. "I guess that leaves you two choices, _ma petite chat_; let me go and we can drive someplace else; or let me do my thing that you love so very much..."

Let her go? In all honesty, I was afraid to. I could tell from the tightness of her shoulders, the persistent twitches and writhes, the dark depths of that sideways gaze; she was keyed up beyond cooling. She wanted sex, _now_, and if she didn't get it the desire would shift to something far more dangerous and destructive. Namely, pummeling me. "Fine," I said crisply, tightening my grip on her even more on sheer principle. "Do your thing so I can have my way with you."

I should have known by that smile that I was pushing it. "Yes, ma'am," she murmured, wetting her lips. Abruptly, the jolt of her power laced through me, burning with icy fire everywhere we touched. It was overwhelmingly disorientating, so much so that when we finally emerged in a warm, softly illuminated room with a mahogany floor and baby grand piano, it took several seconds of staring before I recognized the setting. This was my house. In _St. Louis_.

"You know where I live?" I didn't try to hide the alarm in my tone.

Raven laughed a low, feather-ruffling sound. "Of course I do, silly. And I must say, you have excellent tastes in décor. I especially like your bathroom. That slate shower is sinfully enjoyable…"

My mind was reeling now, wondering how many times this woman had let herself into my home; how often she'd watched me over the years; wondering if she was the culprit of my misplaced items. _Did she use up my hot water all the time? _God, she wanted to fight and this is where she takes us? "Rules!" I blurted out, regaining some composure after a deep breath. "Let's make sure you understand the rules."

"…_Rules?_" her tone was absolutely petulant and just as surprised.

"No magic, no powers, no other-worldly demon tricks. You are not to destroy my home." I growled in her ear. "I say stop, you stop. _Got it?_"

She seemed to consider this briefly while peering at the surrounding den. "And if I don't?" she asked so matter-of-factly I wondered if there was even a point in making rules when she would only take pleasure in breaking them.

"If you don't follow the rules, you don't get this," I grazed my teeth along her throat, letting my hot breath linger at that dreadfully enjoyable merger of neck and shoulder until she moaned quietly. "It's what you want, isn't it? Not just anyone to put you in your place; but _me_." I could feel the breath hitch in her chest; her skin trembled faintly beneath my touch, giving me butterflies. She really wanted this. If I was capable of cramming another emotion into my chest, I'd be giddy as hell.

My fingers were cramping from holding her wrist in a death grip pressed between us. She had to be uncomfortable. Of course it didn't show on her unnaturally calm face despite the dust and smear of drying blood. If anything she looked absolutely vibrant. "Alright," she conceded begrudgingly, licking her lips again the way a wolf anticipates a meal. "I will follow your rules."

The fact that I couldn't quite bring myself to let her go was a pretty good indicator that I was having a hard time believing her. It's like pulling the pin on a grenade and holding it tightly in your hand, too afraid to let go because when you finally do, it goes _BOOM_. Maybe I should reiterate, just to make sure we're clear. "And if I say stop?"

"_I'll stop_," she simpered, squirming in frustration. Her patience was wearing thin. "I will behave. I promise."

She said the magic, placating words. I wanted to trust her. I wanted to. The only way to know if I could was to risk trying. Slowly I released my grip on her wrist and hair, sitting up as I straddled her, waiting for her to surge upwards and give me a run for my money. Instead, she pulled the arm out from under her where it had been pinned, stretching it above her head with a satisfied sound, almost completely ignoring my presence. I watched the gesture with a hot, consuming longing building in my gut, unaccustomed to her stark beauty from our time apart and equally rejuvenated by it.

I hesitated for too long.

With a forceful twist Raven flung me to the side, sending me sliding across polished hardwood floor in an awkward heap. I scrambled desperately to get to my feet in time, only managing to make it to a somewhat sitting position before being crushed to the floor beneath a warm, sinewy body that knocked the breath from me. Surprise overtook me briefly when she pressed her lips softly against mine, with a tenderness that was absolutely alien coming from her in this moment; tension rippling along her skin, desire pooling in those dark, suggestive eyes. Her tongue traced the curve of my bottom lip with an inviting, familiar sound, asking—not taking.

I jolted into action. Her hair felt wonderfully soft between my fingers as I grabbed the back of her neck, pressing our lips closer, kissing her roughly, deeply, aggressively like I wanted and she desperately needed. Raven responded with the fluid transition only a lifetime of patience could produce, simultaneously dominating the kiss and yielding to my hands clawing into her shoulders, driving her closer. I tried to devour her, drink her down like a drowning man craves air, writhing beneath her unabashedly when she deepened that hot, moist caress eagerly.

God, the things that woman could do with her tongue… Memories flooded my thoughts, flashing images of transcendent bliss experienced at her delicate, dangerous hands. Every sense I had was heightened past the point of being bearable. I wanted to hear her mewl again so badly I trembled with nervous anticipation as I shoved her back to take a needed, gasping breath. "Flip over."

Raven paused, expression halfway between amusement and rebellion, eyeing me slyly in this closeness. It stoked my cooling anger to a white hot flash; my hand was around her jaw before I realized I'd even moved, turning her head with a sharp jerk, brushing my lips along her ear. "_Flip. Over._" My voice was a low threat that made even my stomach flutter.

Raven retreated slowly, eyes locked with mine as she turned; only blinking when I gave her a helpful shove onto her back. I straddled her lap, immediately claiming her lips once again. The absolute desire to ravish her was driving me to the brink of insanity, encouraged by every tiny movement of her beneath me; every sound; every scent. A roving, crazed hand made it under her clothing amidst the frenzy. Fingertips scarcely shy of breaking skin raked down her side; Raven bucked her hips, grasping at me, moaning a pleasure I greedily consumed. I wanted more.

I broke from her lips, breathless and squirming. "Sit up," I didn't give her time to even register the thought before I grabbed the front of her jacket and yanked her upright, already fumbling with the zipper. The thin, sexy leather looked wonderful on her. It looked even better on the floor. Beneath that coat was a sinfully arousing top that stilled my actions briefly, requiring at least a moment's attention and an appreciative caress of the soft, inciting fabric.

"You like?" she whispered, breath shifting my hair as she loomed so very close to my ear.

"I like," I conceded, still staring as she slipped her warm hands beneath my jacket and pushed it off my shoulders before I'd even noticed. Cool air hit the dampness of my bloodied arm, giving me chills. My lips found her neck, trailing hot breath and sharp teeth across her deliciously smooth alabaster skin. Her arms wrapped around me in return, pressing me tightly against her as I ground my hips into her lap.

She groaned an impatient sound, sliding her hands down to cup my ass. "Jinx…"

I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and was rewarded with another glorious exclamation of rapture from the demon. A wracking shudder ran through her, making my already aroused senses even more intensified, igniting a liquid heat that snaked through my veins. "Yes, Raven?" I murmured against her with a smile. "Something on your mind?"

Her grip tightened at my waist to the point of pain, and with an achingly controlled effort, she ground her hips into me, letting out a low growl. "We're thinking the same thing. Stop teasing."

"Ah-ah, that's cheating," I scolded, stilling my wandering hands around her shoulders. "You're not very good at following the rules, are you?"

"I don't have to read your mind to know what you're thinking," she said tightly. I knew I was pushing it, pressing her buttons, toying with her. It was a very nice change of pace. I was remarkably surprised the woman had indulged me this far, and it was just oh-so addictive watching her restrain herself. Her eyes were impossibly dark, like vast, bottomless pools of ancient, primal things. "I need—"

"Take us upstairs," I cut her off, pressing a finger to her lips. She blinked at me with a question quirking her brow. "Go on," my tone was encouraging and equally taunting. "Remember the rules, love."

If it was at all possible, her expression tensed even more, to a very interesting shade of teeth-grinding frustration. She looked at me straddling her lap, arms draped around her neck, five-foot-seven feet of essential dead-weight holding her down. Then her lips shifted into the ghost of a smile.

I was suddenly alone in my den, staring at the spot Raven had just been occupying a second before. "_Sonofabitch_," I darted to my feet. I knew it was too good to be true. Everything was silent, save for my uneven breathing I was trying to calm down. Where did she go? I had no doubt in my mind that I was most likely a few seconds away from possible injury, like that part in horror movies where the music fades away and all you can feel is your heart thundering in your ears. I was about to scream and throw things when the shower turned on upstairs; my pulse shot to a frantic beat, matching each step I took towards the stairs. I almost tripped over the rug on the top floor landing, refusing to let my eyes stray from the partially closed bathroom door up ahead. My hand was trembling with adrenaline as I reaching to push the door open.

Raven, however, was behind me.

She shoved me forward into the bathroom with a dark little laugh. I caught myself on the corner wall of the shower, turning just in time to take a breath of air before a completely naked demon crushed me into the glass wall. Her tongue slid along my lips, parting them, exploring every inch of me, clearly enjoying the moan I let loose when her hands undid my belt and yanked it free of my jeans with a crisp _snap_. All I could do was take a gasping, rough breath when she broke from the kiss; watch as she deftly unbuttoned my blouse and ripped it away. My eyes were fixated on the curves of her body; her smooth, flat, tone abs; her full, very attractive breasts; and then to the specks of blood, countless little nicks, scratches, and cuts along her side and down her thigh from our earlier encounter. She was pretty banged up and it didn't seem to slow her down in the slightest.

I blinked away when she yanked off my bra and reached for my pants. "You cheated."

"I brought us upstairs, didn't I?" she mused dryly, murmuring against my lips. I cupped her cheek with one hand, keeping her just out of reach, watching her eyes as she smirked at me. "And I didn't use any demon tricks on _you_."

I didn't like her attitude. My fingers threaded through her hair, securing a firm grip; the sharp jerk downward that followed was neither gentle nor considerate. Raven inhaled sharply, collapsing to her knees at my feet with the loud, hollow thud of bone on tile. A shiver rippled across her shoulders and with a hushed moan, she nuzzled into my hand as I slowly let go of her. I stared, completely convinced that if I wasn't leaning against a wall, I would have slithered to the floor with her from sheer arousal alone; my legs were jello and I was ridiculously, horribly, almost embarrassingly wet.

She peered up at me, lips slightly parted, a look of awe and lust beneath that smear of blood and dirt; her hands slid up my thighs, tugging down my jeans and underwear without a word, followed by my shoes. Steam was rapidly filling the room with stifling heat, adding to the miasma of sexual insanity we were wallowing in. Unbelievably warm hands slipped around the back of my thighs, lightly tracing unknown things across my shivering flesh. Raven brushed her lips up my inner leg, making a horrifically spectacular sound of pleasure that nearly made me climax on the spot.

"_S-stop_," I warbled, surprising myself with the absolute lack of control I had over my voice. "Stop," I repeated, confirming that I could speak full words and think about things other than getting off while I desperately wanted to get off. I was pleased with myself and equally enraged. Raven stared up at me, frozen in place with her lips so very close to the aching need between my legs, looking completely bewildered by my request. But she stopped… she actually listened? Control shifted back into my hands.

I hooked my index finger beneath her chin, gently tugging upward. She stood in a supple, boneless movement I was very jealous of, peering at me from between a few strands of her blue-black hair. For a very brief moment, a flash of something vulnerable colored her eyes; before she could close down her expression and throw up her indestructible walls, I kissed her; deeply, slowly, lovingly. I let years worth of sorrow, misery, and regret speak for itself in that kiss. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. How could I ever walk away from you_? I held her pressed against me, savoring the feeling of our mingling skin with a few lingering kisses.

"Get in the shower," I whispered against her lips, sliding my hand to give her ass an appreciative squeeze as I shoved her into the open glass doorway. As soon as that cascade of hot water hit her, drenching her hair, letting it droop across her face in that untamed, messy appeal; I almost tackled her like a wild, raving tiger in heat. That woman was so incredibly hot she should be illegal. And she was playing it up remarkably well, placing one hand against the wall, leaning suggestively into the stream of falling water, _looking_ at me.

"I'll be right back," I resisted molesting her for the moment, flashing a coy smile I worked very hard at maintaining as I backed out of the room. A flood of endorphins kicked into high gear with the sudden void, igniting the lust even more as I stumbled into my bedroom and dove into the closet. Shit went flying in all directions as I dug, in search of something I probably overlooked several times before I recognized the black box for what it was. With a shuddering breath, I got to my feet, running my fingers over the leather, adjusting the straps around my waist with impatient anticipation.

By the time I nudged open the bathroom door and spotted the dark-haired silhouette through the foggy glass, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. Raven smiled slowly as I pulled open the glass, her gorgeous skin looking slick and clean, smelling of my shower gel. I watched with rapt anticipation as her gaze dropped and that smile faded into an open-mouthed stare that made her eyes impossibly darken. "_S'il vous plait_," she licked her lips, glancing up at me for a brief moment.

I slammed her into the cool stone wall, mouth locked against hers with an out-of control craving half a decade in the making. Nails scraped down my back, burning deliciously, spurring me onward with each twitch, gasp, and groan. I bit down on her neck, stilling some of her erratic movement long enough for me to slip inside her with a firm thrust of my hips. "_Fuck_," Raven threw her head back with a rapturous moan, hands bunched up at my neck in a death grip. I barely even registered the fact that I was completely wet despite standing directly under the waterfall; I just knew that her skin felt wonderful beneath my hands as I slid them to her ass, guiding her hips in the direction I desired. She responded exactly as I'd wanted, wrapping both legs around my waist.

For lack of a better word, I was possessed. Everything narrowed to the rough, consistent thrusting; gasping intakes of breath; a serpentine writhing; hands bracing against flesh and slate; clawing at the air; that primeval, shameless rhythm etched into ever dark corner of my soul. Raven panted breathlessly at my ear, moans hitching and dropping tones as she let herself go. I was vacantly aware of the scent of blood laced through the air like a fine perfume; I could feel the viscous trickle down my spine, feel her nails digging into the muscles of my back as she grew closer to bliss.

Rather than tell her to let up before she shredded my back to the bone, I pushed her legs off my waist and shoved her around, pressing her face first into the corner. She let out a dangerous, half-enraged growl, leaving a smear of my blood on the slate tile when she braced against the wall and ground backwards against me. The sight of her back curved and tone before me filled me with a renewed sense of excitement; I thrust roughly inside her.

Raven arched her back even more, moaning. "Don't stop," she pleaded, barely comprehensible amidst her ragged breathing. I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to. I ran my fingers down her sides, gripping her waist, grinding her harder with each deep thrust. Her motions were getting too frantic to control; her breath was a shallow, rapid gasp that somehow matched my own. I could feel her buildup reaching that point of no return; with a sharp thrust, I pinned her into the wall and sunk my teeth into the back of her neck.

Raven jerked, mouth open and soundless as she came; clawing at the wall, trembling violently before she collapsed. I couldn't bear to stand any longer and crumpled to the shower floor with her, wrapping around her while she twitched and shuddered, making low, pleased sounds as hot water rained down on us. Eventually she turned to face me in our jumbled heap of arms and legs, craning her neck up to kiss me. I smiled, running my fingers through her hair, nearly laughing in elation when she purred. How I had missed this side of her. Before I could sit up, her hands were undoing the wet leather around my waist. She tossed the strap on out of the shower and slid between my legs, nibbling on my bottom lip coyly as she ground against me. I moaned as her weight pressed me flat against the ground, sandwiching me between cool tile and a hot, wet demon.

Those dark, evocative eyes were inches from mine, shielding me from the downpour. "I can hear your heart," she whispered, pressing her hand against my chest. "It missed me, see? Look how it races…" her lips and teeth grazed along my neck.

A scalding shudder ran through me, kindling the memory of being on the balcony in London, when Raven had appeared out of the blue. All-consuming panic paralyzed me with a terrifying thought: was this all just a dream? Another shift in my questionable sanity? In a moment, would I wake up somewhere else? I don't think I could bear that after everything I'd been through this week. If it even was a week. _God, where am I really?_ I jerked wildly, trying to push her away, scared out of my mind. The feeling dissolved when that beautiful woman nuzzled my cheek with a wide, genuine smile. "Shh… relax, relax. This is real, Jinx."

I licked my lips, caressing my fingers across the small of her back, peering up at her. My heart was really racing now, and as the seconds ticked by and nothing changed, I believed her. I let my head thump against the floor with a sigh, listening to the water pelt the stone in a soothing, consistent rhythm. She moved against me, brushing between my legs lightly. I twitched, biting my lip to hold back the loud moan threatening to escape. The momentary fear let me forget that I was about to burst with need, and that faint movement was enough to stoke it to a raging inferno. I scraped my nails up her back with a low growl. "Finish what you started, Raven."

She made a delighted sound, sliding down my body with a creeping, eager smile. "Yes, ma'am…" With casual ease, she threw my legs over her shoulders, pushing me back into the corner of the shower, stretching out her back for me to admire. Then her lips brushed against me and all rationality was ripped from my mind, leaving me focused on the gorgeous woman between my legs, practically already a puddle of mush and she hadn't even started to torture me yet. My hands scrambled across the tile chaotically, ultimately useless like the rest of my quivering body. Raven purred, lapping in impossibly wonderful ways that simply blew my mind. Her hands caressed my thighs, keeping me still despite my uncontrollable squirming while I fought to breathe past indescribable pleasure.

A throaty, utterly shameless moan echoed in the bathroom, pouring from my lips in the artificial rain as an orgasm ravaged me. And in that moment of transcendent bliss, sprawled on the floor of my shower, I didn't care if she would consume me, eat me alive with the depths of her personality; leave me a pathetic pile of flesh at her feet. Raven was perfect for me. I was perfect for her. And this; this was absolutely perfect.

God, the things that woman could do with her tongue…


	8. Epilogue

"Shh… Listen. Do you hear that?" I whispered. "That's the sound of your own pulse pounding in your ears. A muffled, destitute lub-dub, lub-dub. Music, really—can you taste it?"

He worked his jaw, struggling to swallow past the blood seeping from his mouth.

"Sweet, sweet copper pennies, trickling across your tongue, smearing those quivering lips a real, true, lovely ruby," I trailed my fingertips across his lip, bringing them up to my own with a delighted muse; he tasted like fear. They always do. It was a genuine, raw expression of it, stemming from absolute shock. I can't say I blamed them, really. You follow a woman home, thinking you've got it made. Then she peels back that attractive ruse, revealing a wolfish leer right before _this_ happens… I smiled, singing in the low, rapturous tone that lured him here. "_Hey pretty, don't you wanna take a ride with me? Feel my world…_"

Hands twitched in their bindings, desperately grasping at air. Feet strained and kicked to no avail. A bare, tone, handsome torso convulsed on the bed, writhing in exemplary agony that excited every predatory fiber of my being. His jeans were unbuttoned but intact, seemingly the only unblemished thing left. His mouth opened again, letting a wracking hack escape.

"…What's that?" I leaned closer with an inquisitive gesture, peering with facetious concern. "Those are the boney fingers of panic clutching at your throat, I'm afraid. You want to be screaming, I know. Be patient, they will come."

"_Please_," a croak, no louder than whispered sweet words in a lover's ear. "_Please…don't_…"

I straddled him with an unhurried sweep of my leg, leaning, moaning softly when his hot, viscous blood pressed against my skin, slick and sinfully enjoyable. His eyes were impossibly wide, unspeakably blue, and inches from my own. Eyes are the window to the soul; I liked what I saw in the window, craved to make it my own. My hand snaked its way between us, finding the gaping cavern in his chest that bubbled with each labored breath he took. Oh, the feel of his heart in my hand… I trailed my tongue along his jaw, tasting the salty sweet tang of his terror, murmuring darkly in his ear. "Shh… they will come, precious."

And they did; a high, piteous keening erupted from him in frantic pants, like a crying lamb in the dark. A glorious crescendo of sacrificial glee, those last screams gave me butterflies. I smiled against his cheek, listened to bones _crack_, tendons _snap_, and blood _swirl_. He jerked and cried out, wailing useless, incoherent things. They always do. Begging, hoping, praying someone would hear his screams; come to his aid in the nick of time, save his wretched little life. They always do… I tightened my grip on that trembling, thundering, beating heart, squeezing until wet warmth oozed between my fingers. It was another few chaotic, shuddering seconds before his body stilled beneath me with a final gurgled breath. I watched the life flicker like a flame and then fade from those fetching cobalt eyes.

It was a warm, airy silence that followed. I rolled off of him, stretching languidly on those crimson splashed sheets with a sated sigh. I made a low, satisfied sound, trailing my fingers along the gush of vermillion dripping down his side, thinking this moment unequivocally serene. My silent St. Louis night. It smelled like home. Every sense was heightened; I was aware of the soft chirping of tree frogs outside, the quiet babbling of water meandering down the brook. Honeysuckle, lavender, wisteria, and wet earth mixed with the heady aroma of a so recent kill. A mid-Summer's night wet dream… The dark desires were placated, pleased with their gift; some waiver of sanity shifted back into place, leaving me relaxed, content and tremendously hungry. I glanced back at those vacant, skyward staring eyes, wondering if he would have taken me out to dinner if I hadn't been in such a rush. What was his name? It began with a D, I was almost certain. …Or was it a J?

The sound of the front door slamming shut permeated my post orgasmic bliss. Familiar footsteps neared. I sat up on my elbows, peering over my dearly departed friend just as the lights switched on. _Ah, crap_.

"_Jesus fucking Christ_." Gorgeous fuchsia eyes took in the scene before her with a broad sweeping motion, lingering on me with a touch of disbelief. "We talked about this," she gestured unnecessarily as she walked into the room, heels clacking loudly on the hardwood.

After indulging one of my needs, another more enjoyable one was always awakened; particularly when I saw her. I took this time to let my eyes wander, admiring the view. That short pink hair never failed to appease me, especially when she let it go a bit wild and messy. She was absolutely stunning, really, no matter what she wore. Tonight's outfit was a ten as always; tight jeans, sexy tank top, pointless but arousing scarf draped around her neck… _mmm_.

She dropped a plastic bag on the dresser, crossed her arms and leaned against the only other furniture in the room; brows set in an almost disappointed manner informed that she was slightly perturbed. "You promised you'd stop bringing things home with you."

"I didn't promise," I interjected fairly, slowly getting to my feet with another stretch. "I recall saying that I would try."

"Well I'm going to need you to try a _little_ harder," she muttered, inspecting the lifeless heap strung up across the bed. "You know I hate surprises. Don't make me make you promise. And get rid of that."

The blood was starting to dry on my flesh, threatening to itch. I peeled off the ruined bra and panties I was wearing, tossing them carelessly across the dead man, along with his shirt. I was quite pleased with myself for not making a bigger mess. Everything stayed on the bed this time. Easy to clean up. With a simple thought and wave of my hand, all evidence of my evening's conquest vanished with a ripple of smoke, sent to that far off place of oblivion. _Out of sight, out of mind_. I glanced at the empty space, motioning mildly. "Why do we have a guest bedroom if I can't bring over guests," I pouted, cocking my hips coyly.

"Toys are not guests," she commented distractedly, tilting her head faintly as her eyes ran over my gore-spattered nakedness in her own appreciative stare. "I hope that set wasn't one of my favorites. It's hard to tell with all the _artwork_ you smear around…"

"Of course not," I scoffed. "You, my love, aren't a toy. You get all the exquisite things I can offer." I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes and glided towards the door. "You wouldn't believe how incredibly horny, tasteless and uncouth this one was, though. I'm convinced he would have followed me home even if I was wearing a moo-moo. I did the world and gene pool a favor—" Her hand snatched my one clean wrist as I passed, tugging me closer without touching. Blood didn't bother her; she just didn't like the idea of some stranger's blood on her. We all have our peculiar tastes, I suppose.

"I want a kiss before you shower," she murmured, eyeing my lips in contemplation. I could see the questions warring in her eyes, feel her thoughts bicker back and forth as she wondered exactly what I had done with him while knowing it was nothing she didn't approve of. It was only a moment's hesitation, but long enough to let me know she wasn't falling into the lull of complacency. She lived with a monster; she didn't serve one, or let one take advantage of her. It only made her all the more appealing to me. Someone that could keep me on my toes. How exciting.

"Absolutely," I smiled softly, brushing my lips lightly against hers. She slipped one hand around my neck, returning the gesture with a slow, sensual, horribly arousing kiss. Our tongues writhed, curved, swayed in an evocative velvet dance, filling my chest with an intensely warm longing for her. A dark voice lurking in the depths of my mind surfaced, demanded her touch immediately; I shuddered, refusing it. I resisted touching her with begrudged restraint, clenching my fists hard enough to dig my nails into my palms. She was testing me. She enjoyed it, actually. I was too stubborn to give her reason to doubt me, so I suppose in a backwards sort of way I was letting her win. Regardless, I was struggling.

Sensing my turmoil, she pulled away slowly; eyes half-lidded and dark studied me in the closeness before letting me go. "Make it a quick one?"

I smirked faintly, reaching around her, trying to peer into the bag on the dresser. She slapped my hand away, snatching the bag before I could get a glimpse inside. "It's a surprise," she growled, holding one hand out between us in a _stay back_ gesture while the other kept the bag hidden behind her back.

I gave her a mocking look as I backed out of the room. "_You know I hate surprises_," I lilted, hitting her voice and accent almost perfectly.

"Get out," she took a few menacing steps towards me, "go take a shower, you stink."

I made an affronted face, glancing down at myself. Sure, I was covered in blood. I didn't tell her the smell of her oil paints was just as horrid to me. See, I can be reasonable. "Well we can't have that, can we," I mused, disappearing down the hall before she threw something at me.

As I stood in the shower, letting the torrent of hot water sluice away someone else's blood, sweat and tears, I curiously berated myself for not simply reading her mind to see what was in the bag. It just didn't occur to me in the moment. Why was that, exactly?

"You're ruining me," I murmured, standing in the doorway to the kitchen in nothing but a bathrobe. She had changed into her black silk robe that clung to her in all the right places. It was all I could do to keep from tackling her to the floor and having my way with her.

She glanced up, chef knife in hand. "What are you talking about?" she sent me a skeptic look and returned to her slicing.

I peered at the offending plastic bag sitting empty on the counter, scanning the room. Even now, I realized, I wasn't probing her thoughts to find the answer. I could easily overpower her. I could kill her with a fleeting thought... But I never ever would. I've never pined after someone before; or missed them; or wanted their company indefinitely. That is, until I met her. I've done terrible, atrocious things. I consume fear, pain, and death like they're a fine wine. I've ripped souls to pieces. I've lived through hell. But the only thing that has ever kept me up at night, plagued my thoughts, haunted my dreams… was Jinx.

With a few slow steps I was right behind her, pressed against her back, feeling our curves mesh together like two things meant to be. "You make me play fair," I grazed my teeth along her neck, inhaling her familiar scent, letting my hands ghost up her arms with the lightest of touches.

"It doesn't take much effort on my part," she mused, peering at me out of the corner of her eye. "You behave all on your own, which amuses the hell out of me." Long, pale fingers picked up a piece of strawberry, succulently pulling it between her lips with a flash of tongue. I felt that gesture in a low, warm place. "Except of course the occasional slip-up," she turned in my arms to face me with a lopsided smile, lacing her fingers around the back of my neck. "Someone that won't be missed, right?"

"I found him in Miami," I said distractedly, running my fingertips and lips across her skin. "That's what happens when you leave me for _work_. I have to entertain myself."

"Honestly, Raven, I was gone for three days," she smiled good-naturedly, brushing her lips across mine. "I thought someone of your caliber would have a little more self-restraint."

I feigned an offended expression, trying to bite her on the neck. She laughed, shying away, one hand pressed against the side of my head, pushing me back. With a twist she escaped my grasp, dashing around the island counter with a playful smile that just melted me. Gods, I loved her, even if she had the capacity to be an enormous pain in the ass.

She placed both hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward with a stern face. "I might be a little jealous that I walked in on you enjoying someone else's company in our home," she said crisply, holding up a hand before I could speak. "I know it's not sex, and it may be a little backwards and perverted to be envious of someone you killed… But I'm still jealous. Make it better or you don't get your surprise."

_Here we go…_ "Is the surprise sex?"

"No."

"…If I don't make it better does that mean I'm sleeping on the couch tonight?"

"No," she smiled sweetly. "On the floor, at the foot of the bed."

"That's cold," I muttered. After snatching a strawberry off the counter, I mimicked her posture, giving her a narrow-eyed stare as I chewed. "Is this the part where I have to break into song?" I asked dryly.

Her eyes lit up, meaning I had answered correctly. "Perhaps."

I gave her a considering look, weighing my options for a moment before taking a breath. "_Every single day I walk down the street I hear people say baby so sweet. Ever since puberty everybody stares at me—boys—girls—I can't help it, baby. So be kind and don't lose your mind, 'cause you know that I'm your baby._ _Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be, and if you give a damn—take me baby, or leave me…_" I sang in a low, rippling tone.

"Ooo_, RENT_," her brows shot up and she tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. "That's a great start. But not quite," she snatched another strawberry, propping herself up on the adjacent countertop. "You can do better."

_Damnit_. I glowered, glancing around the room for inspiration. I had to pull out all the stops or I was most definitely sleeping on the floor. I'd learned over the years that she was worth every second of irritation she caused. She tolerated a great deal from me, and I certainly wasn't going to argue, especially after what she just walked in on. I mean, really.

"_It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope; which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word. And then that word grew louder and louder—until it was a battle cry—I'll come back when you call me, no need to say goodbye." _

"Regina Spektor," she grinned, feet dangling back and forth with glee. "So close, love…"

_Damnit!_ Regina Spektor always worked. She was getting more brazen with these requests. I chewed on my lip, grumbling internally as I stared at her fucking adorable face. I never should have let her figure out that I could sing. She used it against me constantly. I was proud, sure, but it's also irritating.

"_I memorized all the words for you, but if you only knew how much that's just not like me. I wait up late every night just to hear your voice, but you don't know that's nothing like me. You know I wonder have you already figured out all these things that I try to hide. All this time I've been hoping you don't find out, all these things that I hide on the inside. I can be irresponsible—this is all so new to me. Just when I thought I'm invincible, you come and happen to me_."

"Invincible, nice," she smirked. "You're really trying—I like that. Try a little harder."

_Goddamnit_. I ate another strawberry, stalling as I sifted through songs in my head as fast as I could. That settled it. I was going to have to resort to Lady Gaga.

"_You know that I want you, and you know that I need you. I want your bad, bad romance. I want your love and I want your revenge—you and me could write a bad romance. (Oooo) I want your love and all your lover's revenge—you and me could write a bad romance. (Oooo) Caught in a bad romance. Ra-ra-ah-ah-a-ah, roma-ro-ma-ma-ah, ga-ga-ooo-la-la-ah—want your bad romance._"

Jinx threw her head back and laughed a brilliant, beautiful sound. "I'm pretty sure we've already written a bad romance…" She hopped off the counter and approached, rewarding me with a kiss that I greedily lengthened. "That was great, but it would have gotten you major bonus points if you did the dance to go with it."

"Dance? You're a cruel mistress," I slipped my hands around her waist, tugging her in the direction of the stairs. "Upstairs. Naked. Let's."

"But don't you want to see your surprise?" she draped herself around me, murmuring suggestively in my ear. To be perfectly honest, I'd forgotten about the surprise… I slid my hands down her sides, feeling the lines of something else she was wearing beneath the robe. I glanced into her eyes as she untied the sash, and the material fluttered to the ground with the soft swish of fine silk.

"Wow," I actually said, sounding incredibly inarticulate and not caring in the slightest. She was wearing quite possibly the most attractive set of lingerie in the existence of lingerie. Black, sleek, highlighting her long legs, covering in a teasing, glorious mockery of the word. I just stared, trying my damnedest to remain in a human mindset as everything in my dark little world rushed forward to get a good view.

"I know that look," her voice was low and smooth as cream. She slipped her hand to the small of my back, trailing the tip of a finger across the hollow of my throat. "Madness comes in many forms, you taught me that. But it's taken me a long time to figure out the method to the madness well enough to cause a little of my own."

I licked my lips, growling out in a restrained tone. "And what madness might that be?"

"Ultimately, the answer to every question of sanity is a secret. It's the pursuit of finding the answer that causes madness, not the secret itself. Lucky for you, I want to torture you so sweetly."

My fingers wrapped around her waist with increasing possessive lust as I fought to remain cool and in control. She was slipping under my skin so flawlessly I almost didn't notice. "And…how do you figure that?"

"Because." Her tongue was a hot, moist caress at my ear, followed by a purring whisper. "_I stole this secret from Victoria_."

* * *

~Khaleda


End file.
